Deiru Tamashi's House of Plot-Bunnies
by Deiru Tamashi
Summary: Just a little place to house all the plot-bunnies that pester me as I write and my life goes on. Some of these maybe become real stories, some may not. Either way, do enjoy looking at each plot-bunny as they appear, and tell me what you think. (Without flames!) As the ideas will come randomly, so too will the updates. Rated M just in case. Please read and review!
1. Kuroshitsuji: Shiromeido

**Hello to one and all! This is Deiru Tamashi, here to welcome you to my house of plot-bunnies! As both the title and summary suggested, this is just a place for me to house the random ideas for fanfictions that appear in my head while I work on my ongoing ones. The ideas I post here may become fics… or they may not. It's all up in the air. That being said, I do wish to hear what you guys think of the ideas I put here, so that I have something to work with in regards to the response I get from my viewers! Have fun!**

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Summary: Ciel has decided that the best way to cast his enemies into Hell is to use the light of Heaven. And so, rather than a demon, he calls froth an angel to help his get his revenge. An angel of massacre. Rated M; follows the plot of the anime.

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Kuroshitsuji: Shiromeido

Ten-year-old Ciel Phantomhive sat in the corner of his cell, knees drawn to his chest and shivering from the cold. The cell itself was built with dark brown bricks that were covered by a layer of water and had a small cot in the corner, with the cell itself lighted by a torch on the outside of the iron bars. He had been stuck in here even since the fire had burned down the Phantomhive mansion, taking his parents from him in a fiery blaze.

As if fate had wanted to be additionally cruel, the fire even consumed the family dog, Sebastian. Even since then, he had been sold by his kidnappers to a strange group of cultists, who had in turn branded him with their mark on his side. That mark consisted of an upside-down pentagram surrounded by a thorned circle, and Ciel absolutely hated that mark with every fiber of his being. Just having it on him made him feel dirty, unclean and, above all, ashamed. Ashamed that he had been unable to stop whoever had burned down his home from doing so, unable to help Old Man Tanaka when he had been knocked out, and unable to escape from his confinement.

That is not to say that the young Phantomhive spent every waking moment inside his cell. Oh, no. Whenever there was some form of menial work to be required (which there almost always was), they would pull Ciel from his confinement and work him like a slave from dawn to dusk. Once that was done, they'd throw him back in with a pitcher of water and half a loaf of stale bread for dinner. Or rather, he ate half of the loaf they gave him. The other half would be his breakfast.

With all this put together, it was a wonder that the ten-year-old had not suffered some form of mental breakdown by now. In fact, it was in fact _because_ Ciel was that boy that he had yet to break. Prior to all this, Ciel had been naïve to emotions such as hate and disgust. Anger, yes, displeasure, yes, but never hate. It was these cultists and the unknown culprit for his parent's murder that had introduced Ciel to hate, and now he clung onto it as his lifeline.

Hate gave Ciel the strength he needed to carry on, to live until he had the chance to enact his revenge against these monsters. It reminded him to eat, how to drink, how to breathe. Until Ciel Phantomhive had obtained his revenge, he would never die.

Ciel was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Looking past his cell, he saw the door that led further into… wherever he was… open and shut as a pair of the cultists walked through. As usual, their appearances were obscured by their solid black robes they were, but by the scraggly beard on one of them he could guess that that one was a male, while the figure of the other led him to believe that the second was female.

He did know for certain that the man wasn't the same one as last time. Almost every week they sent someone new, hoping that at least one of them could get Ciel to cooperate with them in following orders more. Or at least with less resistance. He was proven right about their genders when the first cultist said "Time to get up, boy," and the second added "We've got one last job for you," in voices that were clearly male and female respectively.

Ciel didn't respond to their commands verbally, instead choosing to simply glare at them in defiance. For a moment there was silence, until the man said "Come on, we just need you to do this one last thing. That can't be too hard, can it?" Not believing them for a second, Ciel remained silent and continued glaring.

The woman sighed. "Give it up. He's not listening to you either," she said. The man sighed as well, quickly conceding that she was right. And so, as was the usual procedure, the man produced a set of keys and unlocked the cell door. Ciel didn't bother trying to run, since he knew that they specifically came in pair so someone could sand by the door if he tried. As it was, the man quickly approached and delivered a swift chop to the neck that knocked the boy unconscious.

Moving quickly, the make cultist caught Ciel before the child could hit the floor and stood. With a grunt, he hefted Ciel over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walked out, locking the cell shut behind him. "Looks like you were right. Damn brat; I don't know why we keep bothering with him," he stated.

The female cultist smirked in reply. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, we won't be needing to keep him with us after tonight," she said. That did get a smile out of her comrade, who stood straighter. "You know; this kid is feeling a lot lighter now. Let's get going," he said, walking out the door. His fellow cultist chuckled and quickly followed.

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When Ciel awoke, he blearily opened one eye to take stock of his surroundings. Just from looking up he couldn't make much of the ceiling, save that it was too high for him to make out in the limited light on whatever room he was in. However, when he tried to sit up, he felt his arms and legs meet resistance.

Snapping his eyes opened in shock, the heir to the Phantomhive legacy looked around much more alertly. He was lying on top of wooden table in the main prayer room of the cultists' hideout, which in turn was completely obscured by darkness save for a ring of torches along the walls around him as from the skylight above him that exposed a full moon.

Ciel also quickly noticed that he had been stripped of any clothing with the exception of a red cloth that covered his from his waist to his knees. His wrist and ankles were also strapped to the table via leather straps with buckles, which bit into his skin when he tried to move. To add the icing on the cake, he could see the shapes of the entire cult surrounding him. Those cultists were chanting some sort of prayer or incantation, sounding rather excited as they did.

From amongst the cultists, one approached Ciel. This one's robes were different than the others, as while they were still black, that were lines with red on the edges and possessed the same mark Ciel was branded with on the portion of the robe over the cultist's heart. This could only mean that this one was the leader.

The head cultists cleared his throat and the others stopped chanting. "Tonight, we take our greatest step forward in achieving our ultimate desire. Under the light of the full moon and with this sacred circle, we shall call forth the greatest power of all and become unstoppable!" he declared, spreading his arms. The others fanatics cheered, and the leader said "But first, if we were to do as we wish, we must pay the accompanying tribute!"

The leader turned back around to face Ciel, drawing and dagger from his robes. Ciel's breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto the weapon. It possessed a curved blade and bottom of it had an onyx gem, while a pentagram was carved into the help. The blade gleamed almost unnaturally in the moonlight, showing that it had been recently sharpened and oiled. Likely for just this event.

Ciel struggled harder against his bonds as the lead cultists raised the dagger up high. "Wait a minute! You said that you had a job for me!" he cried out.

The leader grinned fiendishly. "That we did. And your final task… is to DIE!" he roared, winging down and plunging the dagger into Ciel's stomach, right below his ribcage. Blood quickly began to rise up from around the blade, which must have hit an artery. The blood got onto the leader's gloves as he pulled back, leaving the dagger lodge inside the Phantomhive.

Taking off his bloodied gloves and handing them to one of the other fanatics, he called "It is done. Now your blood will be the offering needed to complete this ritual, and you shall act as the stepping stone for our ascension!" The others cheered once again at this, before resuming their chants at an even louder and more feverish pace than before.

Getting desperate, Ciel thrashed around and gave everything he had to breaking free. But the more he struggles, the fast he bled out, until the blood began dripping off of the table and onto the markings written on the floor. Slowly, he began losing the feeling in his limbs, starting with the pins and needles and eventually total numbness. His thrashing began to lessen as well, Ciel's vision turning hazy as his hearing also grew muffled.

Despite his resolve, fear began to enter the thoughts of the young Phantomhive. Regardless of his will to live, his desire to obtain revenge, he still had failed to fulfill his desire. And now here he was, bleeding out on a table while being surrounded by a group of fanatic lunatics. No, there had to be a way out of this. There had be some way, some _one_ , who could provide assistance! Summoning his last shred of hope and closing his eyes, Ciel, lacking the strength left to scream aloud, shouted as loud as he could in his mind.

' _If there's anyone who can get me out here, help me!_ '

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Now, let one thing be made perfectly clear. Even though Ciel _hoped_ to receive a response, a part him did not actually _expect_ one. His thoughts were the frantic ones of someone who was about to die, the cry of dying child. For indeed, that was what the ten-year-old was: a child. The idea of getting a response was frightening not only in that fact that it meant that someone could hear his thoughts—which was scary enough—but that meant that whoever replied was most certainly not human.

So, when he heard a voice talk back to his mental scream, you can understand his shock.

" _Is that so, little boy?_ "

"Huh?!" Ciel said, snapping his eyes back open and looking around. He was still lying on his back and with the cloth covering his, but now he was hovering in a space that was definitely not the hideout of the cultists. Instead, the space around him was a blank grey tinged with white, while all around him feathers slowly fell to what constituted the ground below. And those feathers were as white as the driven snow.

Above him, he could make the shape of someone—a woman—whose features were obscured by glow of light that seemed to surround her. Nonetheless, he could hear her voice, as beautiful as chiming bells. " _And what are you willing to exchange in return for my help?_ " she asked.

Coming over his shock, Ciel frowned and stared right at the unknown woman. "I'm willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to obtain my revenge. For shaming me, these cultists will die. And once that is done, I'm enact my vengeance and those who humiliated me and killed my family, no matter what," he said determinedly.

The woman chuckled. " _My, such burning resolve, especially when possessed by someone so young. You have piqued my interest, Ciel Phantomhive. Be that as it may, I can offer no assistance without a bargain being struck. I shall free you from your confinement and assist you in seeking revenge… in exchange for your soul_ ," she told him.

Ciel gasped at that, but remained silent. The woman continued " _Now, I want you to think carefully. Should you accept this pact, not only will the Gates of Heaven forever bar you from passing through, but even the flames of Hell will not be in your reach. Instead, you shall be chained to this Earth, and to me, for eternity. Are you willing to accept that?_ " she asked.

Ciel glared at her at that. "Do you honestly think that I would ask for help if I cared about something like that?" he demanded. The woman chuckled. " _No, I suppose not. However, I'll ask one more time. Do you wish to form a contract?_ "

He nodded. "I do. Now stop wasting my time and do as I asked!" he ordered. The feather surrounding them began swirling around at that, and Ciel's sight began to grow hazy once more. Before he lost his sight completely, though, he could see a pair of wing extend from the woman's back.

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Back in the real world, the chanting of the fanatics had finally come to stop as they waited for the being they all hoped for to appear. However, as the minutes continued to pass by, impatience overcame anticipation, as it is wont to do with humans. One of the female cultists shouted "What's going on? Why hasn't anything happened yet?"

That one voice in turn caused the others to begin questioning the proceedings, asking what had gone wrong. The lead cultist looked at the ritual before them. Nothing was wrong, it couldn't have been. The circles, the writings, the incantations, even the timing of the lunar cycle and the live sacrifice. Everything had been done in exactly the right way. So where had it all gone sideways? Then he took a look at the prone form of Ciel Phantomhive, and realized it.

"The boy! He's still alive!" he called.

That caused surprise amongst them, at least until the male cultists with the beard called "Then what are we waiting for? Kill him!" The other fanatics also voiced that same sentiment, building up into a continuous shout of "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" The leader quickly stepped in front of Ciel and ripped the dagger back out. Ignoring the slight spray of blood it caused in his anger. Aiming for right between the boy's eyes, he called "We will not be denied!" and swung down again.

Only for Ciel to become wreathed in a cocoon of light that blasted outwards in all directions. The blast was such that the light hit him like a physical force, sending the lead cultist staggering and dropping the dagger. Within that light, the straps holding Ciel down erupted into blue-white flames, quickly turning to ash while Ciel was unharmed. In fact, the wound on his stomach quickly healed and began stitching itself shut, not even leaving so much as a scar behind.

Then the light grew in intensity and began coalescing above Ciel, where it faded to reveal a winged woman hovering over him. For the cult leader, even a baser part of him had to admit that the woman was beautiful in appearance. The woman was tall and dressed in a lavender and white dress, with the bottom half of the dress seeming to be made of feathers. She had blue-white hair and dark purple eyes which radiated warmth and serenity.

As beautiful as she was, though, the lead fanatic was able to quick tell exactly what she was. "An angel! An angel has interrupted this ceremony!" he yelled. The others shared his anger, and that rage only grew the longer the angel hovered there. Their objective was clear now. The boy could die later. First, the angel had to go.

Ignoring the ramblings of these lesser beings, the angel smiled down at the Ciel. "Tell me, child, are these the ones who you seek freedom from?" she asked.

Ciel slowly sat up and groaned, looking over at the cultists and glaring with anger. They quickly realized the situation they were in, especially when Ciel said "Yes, there are." The angel nodded and rose into the air, the gentle warmth in her gaze replaced with fiery disgust.

"I find the actions you humans have taken deplorable. Taking an innocent child and using him as a sacrifice for your own gain? How vile. Your souls are unclean, your greed unnecessary, your existence… unwanted," she said, flapping her wings. The feathers of those wings began glowing.

"Snuff out the unclean. Snuff out the unnecessary. Snuff out the unwanted," she said.

The light grew to blinding levels.

"End them."

And then screams began filling the air as the angel unleashed a volley of feathers down on the cultists. Each one had the power to pierce skin, tear through flesh, and even crack bones. Each flap of her wings sent another barrage of the feathers down, mowing through the fanatics with little effort. Those of the cultist with weapons tried charging at her, but they too were swiftly eliminated.

It was over in a matter of minutes. Before this night, the number of members the cult possessed had been approximately fifty. And now? Now they numbered at zero. Blood swiftly began pooling from all the dead bodies, though both Ciel and the angel ignored the smell of it. Instead, the angel lowered down to the ground and bowed her head while Ciel got off the table and stood straight, the cloth tied at his waist.

"Well? What now?" Ciel asked.

The angel looked up and smiled serenely. "Now, I must lay my mark upon you, Ciel Phantomhive. The mark I place upon you will bind the two us together and confirm the contract. The more obvious the placing of the mark, the more tightly bound the two of us will be. And once the mark has been placed, you will lay out the most basic terms of our contract. So, I must ask, where do you wish for me to mark you?" she said.

He thought about it for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't care where. Just so long as it gives me the strength I need to exact my vengeance," he stated. The angel nodded at that and reached forward, placing her hand over Ciel's right eye. Before the young Phantomhive could stop her, she released a large burst of holy light.

Ciel screamed as he felt the light burn his right eye, but the pain went even further than that. The light reached down into his soul. Changing it. Making it the property of the angel. When the light at last faded, Ciel opened his eyes, and in place of its usual shining blue, his right eyes was colored off white with a black mark in the center. **(The brand on Ciel's side in canon.)**

With the mark made and the contract made official, the angel folded her wings against her back and dropped to her knees. "Now, my master, what is my name and orders?" she asked. Ciel looked down at her for a second, before finally smiling.

"Your orders are to serve every command I issue. You will never lie to me in any way shape or form, you will place my life above yours in importance, and you will assist me in obtaining my revenge. Only once that is done will you be allowed to have my soul. Those are your orders…" Ciel said, before pausing as he thought of a name.

Then it came to him, and he finished "Those are you orders, Angela Blanc."

Angela smiled at the name. 'White Angel'. How fitting. But rather than say that, she simply nodding, accepting her new master and new life.

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 **And that's it. This is the plot bunny that's been ravaging my mind for the past several weeks, mainly due to the fact that I finished watching both seasons of Black Butler and got the idea of Ciel having an angelic servant instead of a demonic one.**

 **So! Tell me what you guys think of this. Should I add it to my list of future stories, should I not, and what would you like to see? My only request is to be** _ **constructive**_ **in any criticism you provide. Thank you!**

 **Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)**


	2. Justice League: Painted Ambition

**Hey, me again! This plot bunny has been particularly vicious this past week, so I'm getting to down now so that I can work on my others stories, which is what I'm supposed to be updating next. That being said, this is one of the ideas that I'm feeling particularly keen on, so there's a good chance that this one will end up a story… eventually. So here we go!**

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Summary: A new metahuman has appeared, one whose skill with a brush is matched only by his desire for to achieve peaceful reality for the world. By any means necessary. And if the Justice League and others don't like his plan? Then he and those who join his side will fight to bring forth their ambition. Rated T for now, likely to go up in the future.

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Justice League: Painted Ambition

 _Each change in history can be drawn back to the actions of a single person._

While the young man standing before his work of art was unsure who had originally said that quote, he felt that it was truer now than ever. The world was a sum of its details, and so a single change in detail changes to world. Kill a dictator, lead a movement, save a life, all were ways to change the image of the world. Each one making it better than before.

The man, whose name was Ximun Sollertia, moved his brush with fast, precise strokes, adding another layer of paint of his artwork. His build was thin yet lithe, with skin as pale as marble and oily black hair that fell in a disheveled pattern to his chin. His eyes, oddly enough, were a kaleidoscope of a varying colors, moving from one shade or blend to another as he moved. This, combined with the sheer _intensity_ in his gaze and slightly gaunt expression led an image of madness to him. The fact that he was grinning like a someone who was insane didn't help.

" _Justice" can be seen as a thing of beauty. Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder._

Despite the fact that he was carrying no source of paint, Ximun painted the roses red, red as freshly drawn blood. Behind him, around two dozen mobsters were tied up and gagged, X's painted over their eyes with comical teardrops on their cheeks. They were all sitting on top of a large pile of money, money that they had all been counting right before he had dropped in from the window and beaten them all to a pulp.

 _The power of a movement lies in the fact that it can change the habits of people._

Specks of paint splattered onto his already ruined apron, causing Ximun to pause for a few seconds. Then he abruptly spun the brush in his hand and stabbed the wooden end into the wall, shattering the brush. The bristles had become too stiff, too easily broken by its users whims. One could even call that a metaphor. For what? Good question. As it was, he pulled out another brush and added green to the eyes of a cat lying on a branch, hissing angrily back at him. A bit more detail and it would be as if he had actually made a cat out of thin air.

Ximun paused again. Hmm… Why not?

With a mental push, the painting glowed and abruptly _leaped_ off of the wall as if out of a mirror. The cat, now very real indeed, landed on all fours and hissed at Ximun, glowing green eyes glaring at him. Ximun regarded his creation for a moment, examining its features as it stayed low to ground and ready to pounce. Then, with another mental push, the cat exploded in a shower of paint that got all over the floor. How messy.

 _When morality comes up against profit, it is seldom that profit loses._

Ximun was very well aware that some of Gotham's greatest crime lords—particularly Black Mask, Salvatore Maroni and the Penguin—were all going to be very displeased when they learned that someone had not only whacked several of their guys, but had also stolen around a hundred-thousand dollars from each of them. And just as the three of them Were about to start doing business together.

That was, in fact, exactly what Ximun had deliberately interrupted. A three-way arms deal between the three gangsters, one that would have had the potential to double the number of illegal guns on the street. Being the good Samaritan that he was, there was no way he was going to allow that.

Once word got out that someone had stolen from three of Gotham's most infamous crime lords at once, everybody from GCPD to Batman to the gangsters themselves would be looking for who was responsible. And the ones affiliated with the criminals might be looking to end his life. Not that he was particularly worried; people had tried to kill him before, and they were all dead now.

 _If given the choice between peace and righteousness, I choose righteousness._

Some say that ending a life is wrong, yet others cry out like infants when criminals are allowed to live on. The morality of the world is indeed a complex paradox, and who knows? Anyone could be right. But the hard truth was that killing crime ended crime. People may not like that truth, but it _was_ truth. And to achieve a peaceful reality, Ximun was more than willing to take lives.

Ximun filled in the vein of several leaves. Just a little bit more…

 _If an unstoppable force meets an immoveable objects, which prevails? No one, not until the force is either stopped or the object is moved._

Finally finished, the young man moved back and wiped the sweat from his brow, looking around at him. The entire warehouse, which had been derelict and completely devoid of color before Ximun broke up this arms deal, was covered with various paintings of every style, from Gustav Klimt's _Tree of Life_ to Andy Warhol's _Soup Cans_ to Hieronymus Bosch's _The Last Judgement._ All of it done, even when the originals weren't, in oil paint that Ximun had generated himself.

Indeed, if it wasn't made clear by now, Ximun was a metahuman. His ability? To generate and manipulate paint via his own energy, and bring that which he painted to life.

With his work done, Ximun discarded the apron and walked into a side room in the warehouse, changing out of his ruined outfit. When he came out, he was wearing an odd mixture of armor and work clothes, with a fresh white apron over a black sleeveless Kevlar vest with multiple pockets, and underneath that was a simple white T-shirt. On his lower half was a pair of brown heavy-duty painter's pants—also with several pockets—and black steel-toe boots. To top it off was the assortment of brushes sticking out of the various pockets he had on, as well as black leather gloves that shined in the fluorescent lighting overhead.

Ximun looked over at the bound thugs. "Do you gentleman want to know why I specifically used oil paint?" he asked smoothly, gesturing to the artistic chaos that was all around them. The thugs, of course, couldn't respond due to their gags. Even so, Ximun sighed and pulled out a silver Zippo lighter.

"It's actually rather simple. You see… this particularly blend of oil paint that I made was one that I wanted to test out on just this occasion. And it's all _very_ flammable," he said, suddenly grinning from ear to ear. Their eyes widened; it didn't take long for them to realize what he was implying. They began struggling even harder, but it was no good; the ropes kept them bound like iron bars.

Tutting, Ximun put away the lighter and instead pulled out both a chisel and a frag grenade from the pockets on his vest. "Relax, you guys. I'm not going to kill you," he assured them. That calmed them down slightly, and Ximun approached them, taking care not to slip and the stacks of cash as he climbed on top of the pile. Quickly he held up the grenade and pulled the pin out, before placing it in the hands of one of the thugs, whom he mentally decided to call "Poor Fellow".

"And it's not going to be you that kills you, either. But instead, it'll be simple, natural biology," he said, before taking the chisel, shoving it into Poor Fellow's stomach and ripped it back out. Even gagged, his cry of pain was audible, but Ximun ignored it. Standing up and tossing the chisel away, he brushed himself off and began walking off. However, he stopped and looked back.

"You were all sure to die eventually- that, or be locked away in a cell until your bosses inevitably got you out. But now you guys have until Poor Fellow there dies from bleeding out, and then you all go 'boom'. And since this is going to keep Maroni, Penguin and Black Mask from doing business together, the wallets of this city's crime take a hit as well. So don't feel as if you died for nothing," he said, before quickly running and exiting out the front door, bold as brass.

The thugs were left sitting there, watching one of their own hold onto the grenade with everything he had, even as he bled out. But like Ximun said, biology killed them, and the Poor Fellow lost the ability to keep holding on once he lost enough blood. The grenade fell from his hands, clattering and bouncing down the pile of money they were on until it landed right beneath a portrayal of _The Scream_.

When the blast went off and the warehouse roared with flames, "scream" is exactly what they did.

Ximun walked away and moved through the back alleys until he was back on the sidewalk of Central Avenue. No one questioned his odd attire, especially considering the outfits of someone of their heroes and villains. Actually, that caused him to think. Almost every good or bad guy in the world had someone sort of moniker, if only to make a statement. What was his? He thought about even as several GCPD squad cars shot past his, sirens blaring as they raced towards the warehouse he had just blown up. Then Ximun grinned once more.

 _Baptism by fire. Not always the best way to make an entrance, and certainly not the subtlest. But for an artist who will change the world, what could be better?_

That was the night that _The Painter_ began his worldwide masterpiece.

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 **And there's a wrap on that one. This one came after not only starting an art class, but after playing both** _ **Batman Arkham Knight**_ **and watching a few episodes of the** _ **Justice League**_ **TV show (which is actually pretty good, in my opinion). Like I said, this one has a very good chance of someday becoming an actual story, so this might not be the only plot bunny I get that's related to that. Who knows? Either way, let me know what you all think and offer** _ **constructive**_ **criticism.**

 **Please review! If you flame me than Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)**


	3. High School DxD: Infinite Legacy

**Author's Note: Yeah, I'm back here again. This time it was a High School DxD plot bunny that jumped me, especially after I read a truly masterful fanfiction on here called** _ **Devil Ninja**_ **that crosses over DxD and Naruto. It actually pulls it off pretty freaking well. That said, I hope you all enjoy this plot bunny as well, and let me know whether I should make this into a fic or not. Enjoy!**

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Summary: Ophis has come to the conclusion that the best way to defeat Great Red… is to have a child. Eighteen years later, a new student has appeared at Kuoh Academy. A student who goes by the name of Deiru Ouroboros. How will his presence affect the DxD world? We shall see.

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High School DxD: Infinite Legacy

 **Venice, Italy, 19 Years before the Beginning of the Series**

Sitting at a café by one of Venice's many rivers, surrounded by humans, was a very _different_ individual. This individual had the appearance of a girl who couldn't have been any older than 10 years old, and was short enough that she was able to swing her legs back and forth as she sat in her chair. Her large eye were neutral gray and her hair was black as night, as well as long enough that it reached down to her hips. Hidden by her hair, her ears had pointed tips, signifying that she was not human. Her outfit was that of a gothic Lolita.

This "young girl", as the humans who passed by her saw her as, was Ophis, the Infinite Dragon God and strongest dragon in existence.

Ophis sat at the café and watched the humans live their lives around her. Some were enjoying coffee and bread, others were talking amongst friends, there was even a young couple that were enjoying a gondola ride while look lovingly into each other's eyes. Indeed, the actions that human were able to take were many and varied in an iconic city such as this, and the general air seemed to be one of happiness and excitement.

She could not understand any of it.

Why did humans enjoy making such noise and acting with such energy? Perhaps, because their lives were so much shorter, they acted so much more energetically in their actions to compensate. Or maybe they were just naturally inclined to make so much noise. Depending on what they believed, humans _were_ supposed to be descended from primates, after all. Then again, considering that Ophis desired silence above all else, that could be her own bias talking.

By now, you must be wondering why Ophis was even sitting there in the first place. Why would a being as powerful as the Ouroboros Dragon be sitting amongst humans when she desired to be amongst silence, much less at a place as noisy as a café? The answer, actually, was pretty simple. Ophis wasn't sitting amongst silence because she was unable to do so.

She actually _had_ the perfect and most quiet place where Ophis could enjoy the silence she loved so much. The place was none other than the Dimensional Gap, the void between dimensions where the dragon goddess was born and lived for countless millennia. However, Ophis had, at one point in her life, left the Dimensional Gap behind and entered the rest of the dimensions.

When Ophis returned to her home, afterwards, she found that it had a new resident.

A massive and truly mighty dragon that went by the name of Great Red had taken up residence in her home, and refused to leave it after coming to a place that was perfect for him to cause all the chaos he wished without destroying entire continents. Seeing as Great Red was also known as the "Apocalypse Dragon", then it likely that such would indeed occur of he did his stunts anywhere else.

While having such freedom to act as he wished was good for Great Red, this left Ophis in a bind. Above all else was her desire to return to her home and reclaim that world of silence, but Great Red prevented her from that. And as much as she disliked it, neither she nor Great Red had the level of power needed to defeat one another. So, if Ophis was going to evict Great Red from the Dimensional Gap. How was Ophis going to get that kind of help? The answer to that was simple as well.

Ophis had decided that she was going to have a child.

Now, before this decision is balked at, let things be considered from Ophis's point of view. If she was going to gather enough powerful allies to defeat Great Red and force him from the Gap, then the forces that Ophis brought together needed to be exceptional in strength. From devils to angels to exceptional humans to other dragons, every person she brought together had to be strong and would help in her battle. And who would be more beneficial in a fight against Great Red than someone who shared her blood?

If Ophis were to have a child, than that child would receive her blood and all the power thereunto pertaining. Granted, that child would likely not reach the same level of power as herself, but he or she would still be a force to be reckoned with. And what more, if she could find a strong enough person to be the child's other parent, then that child would have the other parent's strength as well and truly become formidable. So, Ophis had come to the conclusion that the best way to defeat Great Red was to have a child.

But that in turn begged the next question: who should she have the child with? Tilting her head back and ignoring the humans around her, Ophis closed her eyes as she thought further.

First, the smartest choice would be to decide what race of being she wanted her child to be half of. Her own sense of bias immediately turned her thoughts towards it being another dragon, which would in turn allow her to have a child that was a pure-blooded dragon. However, that thought was discarded, as while her child would have 100% dragon's blood, the only two dragons she could consider "worthy" of siring her child her the Two Heavenly Dragons, which we both perpetually stuck in their Sacred Gears.

Next there were the Yokai to consider. It was not a bad suggestion, as having Yokai blood would enable her child to wield Youjutsu and even, to a lesser degree, Senjutsu. Being able to wield the power of nature itself was definitely a major bonus. Not only that, but each race of Yokai had their own unique abilities, from the Kitsune's control of fire to the enhanced reflexes and senses of Nekomata. Unfortunately, there existed very few Yokai left in the world, and none of them at that current point of time had the power she desired for her child. So, no Yokai.

Humans were also considered on the basis that there had been many notable humans throughout history of great power, and possessed great ability to bring other beings together for a common purpose. If Ophis's child were to be born half-human, they had the chance of being a great leader and fight. Not only that, but there was the very slight chance that her child would be born with one of the greatest gifts God had given to humans: a Sacred Gear.

However, humans too were discarded as non-viable. While having a half-human child did means there was the possibility of all those benefits, there was no guarantee of it like with the other races. And not only that, but the chances of her child getting a Sacred Gear were about one in a million. That was a gamble that Ophis was unwilling to take.

Now, Ophis considered the three largest of the remaining races: Angels, Fallen Angels, and Devils. Angels was an instant no-go, as there was no way for her to convince any devil, male or female, to sire her child without having that Angel become Fallen in the process. That narrowed the field to Fallen Angels and Devils. Fallen Angles was not a bad idea, as there were certainly more than a few stronger being within their ranks, their leader Azazel being a prime example.

Ophis hummed. Now, that was actually not a bad idea. If she were to manage to get into bed with Azazel and become impregnated via his seed, then her child with have the genetics of a twelve-winged Fallen Angel. That would in turn mean that her child would have access to the powers of using light as a weapon, as well as the intelligence that Azazel himself had displayed as leader of the Grigori throughout the centuries. That fact that Azazel was a known pervert could even mean that getting him to have sex with her would be easier.

That was honestly saying little, thought. While Azazel _was_ a "ladies' man" and was reputed to have fallen because of his own lust in first place, that intelligence he had displayed has meant that he was unlikely to be fooled into being seduced and would instead discover her intention before they even got into bed. And there was the fact that Azazel's pervertedness could possibly be passed down to her child.

Ophis shuddered at that. If there was one thing that her child would _not_ be, it was a pervert.

Which meant that she now turned her thoughts to the last candidate. The Devils. Like the Fallen Angels, the Devils were a large faction and possessed several powerful beings. Heck, their entire system of organization revolved around being led by four Devils of extreme power: the Maou. Each one were strong beings in their own right, and to have a child with one of them would make certain that her child would be as powerful as she envisioned.

Not only that, but the fact that there were _four_ Devil leaders quadrupled her chances of having her desired child. Then there was the fact that, were her child to have Devil blood, then there was a very significant bonus that he or she would have—the ability to use Evil Pieces and build a peerage. That thought actually caused her to release a small smile. Yes, the idea of her child growing to be a strong devil/dragon hybrid and building their own peerage was one that she liked a lot.

It was decided, then. Ophis would have a child with one of the four Maou.

But which Maou would she choose from? There was Serafall Leviathan, Ajuka Beelzebub, Sirzechs Lucifer, and Falbium Asmodeus. Perhaps it was because of the fact that Ophis had been in a female form for the past few centures, but she felt the desire to actually give birth to the child herself, rather than impregnate someone. So, the ruled out Serafall Leviathan. Falbium was also ruled out, as she had seen the man's almost inhuman sense of sloth and had no desire for her child to be such a slacker.

Ajuka was almost cast off for the same reason, but it had been shown that the Astaroth devil was dependable when needed. And his intelligence was also far above that of his peers for him to do something such as create the Evil Pieces themselves. Were she to seduce Ajuka, then she would also be in his palace, which would the prime place for her to steal a set of Evil Pieces for her child to use in the future.

But, in the end, Ophis decided against seducing Ajuka as well, as the man's passion for inventing was sometimes even greater than his dedication to his job as Maou, which was not a trait she desired in her child, And even if she did not seduce Ajuka, she could still sneak into his estate and steal a set of pieces later. You would be amazed what being a true shapeshifter like herself enabled her to do.

Which mean that the field of candidates for the other parent of her child was narrowed down to one: Sirzechs Lucifer.

Ophis retained her smile at that. Out of all of the Maou, the former heir to the Gremory house was by far the most powerful of them. Not only that, but the Maou was known for his kindness and preference towards avoiding combat. That said, he would not hesitate if he needed to fight, and was _very_ devoted to his family. Rumors were that when the Lord and Lady of the Gremory house told Sirzechs that they planned on giving him a sibling, he nearly blew a hole through an entire side of the Gremory Manor in excitement.

Even without the strength that Sirzechs possessed, he did possess a unique gift amongst the devils: the Power of Destruction. Granted to him by his mother's blood from the Bael clan, that ability alone allowed the Crimson Satan to take any matter, living or not, and completely disintegrate it to the point that not even dust remained. If Ophis's child were to have that power along with her own, then few would be able to match them once her child become skilled with her power.

Of course, there was no guarantee that her child would got the Power of Destruction when it was only a quarter of the Bael clan blood against her own. Either way, Sirzechs, by her estimation, the prime candidate for fathering her child. And there was one last thing that made him the perfect candidate to seduce: Sirzechs Lucifer had a wife.

If it weren't already for the fact that the man completely loved his family, the fact that Sirzechs was married was the icing on the cake for choosing him. In order to get in bed with the Maou, all she needed to do was shapeshift to look like his wife, Grayfia Lucifuge, have sex with him, and it was done. It would need to be done at a time when Grayfia was not home, but it could be done regardless. Even better, she had no fear of acting out of character since Grayfia barely showed any more emotion than Ophis herself.

It was decided, then. In order to defeat Great Red, Ophis would disguise herself as Grayfia Lucifuge and have sex with Sirzechs Lucifer in order to have a child. It was genius, if she were vain enough to say so.

Now, all she had to do was keep a spying eye on both Sirzechs and Grayfia to determine the best time to initiate her plan, and then get into the Maou's bed. And once that was done, she'd wait until she was ready to give birth, do so, and raise the child until it was ready to begin helping her with her plan to defeat Great Red. She had been trying to get rid of the Apocalypse Dragon for centuries; she was willing to wait this much longer.

Though, raising the child did mean that she'd have to complete such tasks as feeding him or her, making sure that they were healthy, training them to become a powerful fighter, teaching them everything academic or not that they needed to grow up to be mature and intelligent…

Ophis blinked, and finally spoke aloud. "This… is going to be harder than I thought," she said.

* * *

 **That puts an end to that plot bunny. I think that I did a pretty good job of describing the train of thought that led Ophis to this decision, as well as how she plans to go about it. So, what do you all think? Should I make this into an actual fic? Let me know in the review box!**

 **Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)**


	4. SWTOR: Bloodstained Light

**Author's Note: And another plot bunny. This one came to me as a result of playing** _ **Star Wars: The Old Republic**_ **, which this is set in. Both characters are based off actual characters that I created in-game, and my desire to give them a backstory led to this. So, enjoy!**

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Summary: Even with a fragile peace in place, the war between the Republic and Empire goes on, sweeping up countless people and worlds in their conflict. From that conflict, two sisters have emerged, who will show the galaxy the true power of the Force and revenge.

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Star Wars, The Old Republic: Bloodstained Light

Balmorra.

It's interesting how just one word, one name, could invoke any of a variety of feelings. From pride to envy, guilt to resolve, love to hate, there were almost as many feelings that the name of that one planet can cause as there were inhabitants of that same planet.

But what was Balmorra? According the historical documents, the planet of Balmorra was one of the founding worlds of the Old Republic, and the center of production for advanced droids and weapons throughout the galaxy. Considering that, it was not surprising that Balmorra was a target for the Sith Empire during the Great Galactic War. The many plains that composed the planet became pock-marked with artillery fire, and many lives were lost during the many fights for Balmorra, its people and its power.

Yet, for all the Republic's efforts, their campaign was futile. Following the Treaty of Coruscant, the Republic was forced to withdraw all its forces from Balmorra, leaving the locals to fend for themselves against the Imperials. And so, the Empire conquered Balmorra and turned the planet's government into its puppet, even as local resistance forces still fought for freedom.

It was on the war-torn world that this story began, just one year after the Treaty was signed. Amongst the settlements found within the Gorinth Canyon, one burned even as two children survived…

* * *

"Shh… It's going to be okay, Ru. It'll be alright," a young girl said, holding her crying sister close even as she held back her own tears. Outside the window to their room, they could see an Imperial squad moving throughout their village. While they couldn't hear what most of them were saying, they did catch onto phrases such as 'burn the crops', 'no witnesses' and 'Lachris's orders'.

It wasn't hard to figure it out, even for children such as them. The Empire was here to kill them.

"Annie… I-I don't want to die…" the other girl whimpered, closing her eyes in the vain hope that it would make her troubles go away. She had long white hair that fell in waves to her shoulders, slightly pale skin and her eyes, were they open, would be seen as green. Her name was Ruinara Omnes.

Her sister, by contrast, had a more tanned skin tone and black hair that was held up in a high ponytail. Additionally, her eyes were gray. This was Ruinara's twin sister, Annarith Omnes.

Annarith tried to come up with something to calm her sister down when their door swung open. Fear shot through them for a moment, before calming when they saw that it was their mother, Decima. She had Ruinara's hair but Annarith's eyes, and her expression was currently stuck in one of urgency.

"Annie, Ru, you have to hide!" she said, but was careful to avoid yelling.

Both nine-year olds looked up at her. "Mommy, what's going on? Are they really here to kill us?" Annarith asked.

Decima bit her lip, wondering for a moment whether to tell the truth, before realizing that there wasn't enough time for her to come up with a working lie. No chance of escape, nowhere to hide all three of them, there was no other choice. "They won't be able to if they can't find you. Quickly, get under the bed!" she said, before pushing them under their beds.

Just as she was about to run out the door, however, she could hear Ruinara asked "But what about you?"

She froze, before slowly looking back at them. When she did, they could see a spark of something in Decima's eyes. While they weren't sure what it was, when they saw it, they could feel themselves start to panic.

She walked back towards them and got down on one knee. "You two remembered what happened to your father, right?" she asked.

Both of them nodded. Their father Indomitus had been part of the resistance, helping the Republic fight the Empire with the sole purpose of keeping the Sith away from his family. Only for him and his squad to be pinned down under fire by the Empire. From what the girls and their mother had been told, they had tried radioing the Republic for back-up… and found that there was no back-up. The Republic was retreating from Balmorra completely, and his team was being left high and dry.

There wasn't even a body of their father to be recovered. Just ashes and a blaster cannon.

In the present, Decima looked at them both with a hard glint in her eyes. "The Republic abandoned your father and this planet in its time of need. And now, the Empire has come to finish us off. Whatever happens to me, I want you two to make me a promise. Don't ever abandon each other, and always protect what matters. Can you promise me that?" she asked.

Annarith and Ruinara nodded, and Decima smiled. Reaching for her back, she took the techblade she was wearing off and slid it under the bed to them. "Then I have no regrets. Just keep that promise, and you'll do great things. I love you both," she said, before standing and leaving the room.

The twins could see their bedroom shut and hear the lock snap in place. Instantly, both of them got out from under the bed and ran to the window. Outside, they could still see the village crops being set on fire and the other houses being raided.

But then they saw their mother, who was charging into the middle of the village and wearing an oddly-shaped jacket. She was also holding an assault cannon—the same one their father had been using.

"Hey, you Imperial bucket-heads!" she yelled, catching the attention of every soldier in sight. When they turned to face her, she smirked and the barrel began rotating. "Eat blaster!" she roared, and unleashed a hailstorm of green-colored bolts. The three closest to her went down before they could react, and their screams shocked the others into action.

"Shit! Open fire!" the captain of the squad called, and aimed at Decima. Only for her to fire at a gas barrel a short distance from him, causing it explode and send him flying into one of the burning fields. The other soldiers also began firing, but she stomped one of her feet and an energy shield appeared around her. Their shots deflected harmlessly off it while Decima laughed and continued to unleash mayhem on the Imperials.

"Mom…" Ruinara muttered.

"She's amazing…" Annarith said in awe.

Decima grinned. "How's that, you Sith-kissing maggots! Have some of your own medicine!" she called, and kept firing.

Five more Imperial soldiers fell before her, torsos perforated with sizzling holes. Over a dozen more had already fallen before her, and she could keep going well into the night if she wanted.

Unfortunately, however, it was not to be. After more than three minutes of sustained blaster fire—a lifetime in any battle—her assault cannon finally stopped spewing rounds as it overheated. As if fate were watching, that was also the exact moment that the power supply to her shield cut out, leaving her defenseless.

The remaining Imperials wasted no time in taking their opportunity, and peppered Decima with several dozen shot between them.

"Mom! No!" Annarith called, gripping the edge of the window hard enough that her knuckles turned white.

Decima staggered back with each shot. Once they finally stopped, she coughed and released a gout of blood before looking up at them. The captain, who had been helped out of the fire and was holding her now-broken arm, staggered forward. "Well, looks like your efforts were in vain. Any last words?" he asked tauntingly.

But Decima just grinned up at him with bloodied teeth. The captain snorted and raised his hand to issue the killing order, when she suddenly unzipped her jacket. Strapped to her chest was every last ounce of detonite that her husband had managed to collect in his firefights with Imperials, reaching several pounds in total.

"You can have this back!" she called, and ran straight at them. Not even waiting for an order, the soldiers began firing, but Decima persevered and tackled the captain before hitting the detonator.

The subsequent explosion would have blasted a small hole in the side of a Republic battlecruiser. At such close range, the immediately force of it killed the Imperial captain along with every grunt within a twenty-meter radius, while those that were beyond that were torn to pieces by shrapnel.

The blast also caused the window that Ruinara and Annarith were looking through the shatter, forcing them to duck their heads to avoid getting a face-full of broken glass. The two of them didn't move for a few minutes, trying to get rid of the ringing in their ears. Once said ringing was finally gone, they cautiously looked over the edge of the window.

All that remained of Decima's heroic charge was a large, smoking crater, along with several grass fires caused by the shrapnel. No other villagers, no soldiers, no sound. Nothing.

* * *

Slowly, the two of them emerged from the house and began to make their way to the crater, Annarith clutching the techblade that they had been given. And lying there, in the center of the crater, was the smoking husk that had been Decima Omnes.

Ruinara gasped, despite knowing that this was what they would find. She fell to her knees and reached out towards the body, only for her to yelp in pain was the still-smoldering flesh burned her fingertips.

Annarith came next to her, staring down at what had been their mother. ' _Why? Why is it that good people have die? What's the reason for it?_ ' she thought. She looked out to what was left of their village. The other residents had all been killed, the fields were all burnt, and soon the scavengers would come to pick apart the bodies. They had to move.

She knelt next to her sister, and began shaking her shoulder. "Come on, Ru. We have to leave here. We need to go," she said.

But Ruinara just stared blankly at Decima's body. Eventually, she replied "…Go to where? The reistance can't hold off the Empire. The Empire killed Mom. And the Republic killed Dad. There's no one that can help us," she said, too numb to even cry.

And as much as Annarith wanted to cry enough for both of them, she knew she had to stay strong. As the older twin, it was her job.

Even so, staying strong and trying to come up with a plan was harder than it looked. Option of option appeared in her head, but each one either would not or could not work. With each second that passed, she could feel her frustration growing until, finally, she screamed in rage and threw the techblade at a nearby tree.

The moment the blade left her hands, however, it became coated in a sheen of glowing energy. It hit the tree and sliced through trunk of it as easily as butter, and kept going before falling onto the ground several meters away.

The severed tree crashed to the ground and Annarith stared. "Did I… Did I do that?" she asked, looking down at her hand. Ruinara looked up at that and blinked, staring in surprise at the tree, then at her sister.

"Annie… Did you… just use the Force?" she asked. When Annarith didn't respond, she looked down at her hands. If her sister could use the Force, was she able to as well? She had heard stories from their father about how the Sith could shoot lightning from their hands. Maybe she…

Ruinara extended her hand towards the fallen tree. At first, she accomplished nothing, and no lightning came forth. The same happened on her second, third and fourth try. Finally, once her anger reached a similar stage as Annarith's did, she screamed and was able to fire a single bolt of electricity, one that hit the leaves of the tree and set them afire.

Now with their theory confirmed, the two siblings looked at each other. "So, we are Force-users," Annarith said.

Ruinara nodded, before slowly smiling. "You know what this means, right? If we can use the Force, we can become Jedi! Or Sith! Then we can punish the Empire and Republic for everything they had done!" she said excitedly.

Annarith smiled as well, before reaching forward and hugging her sister tightly. Ruinara did the same, and the two of them held each other tight.

"Let's make a new promise. Even if we end up apart, even if everyone else gets hurt, we'll do whatever we can to keep our promise to Mom. To keep each other safe," she said.

Ruinara nodded, before smiling darkly in a way that no child should have been able to. "Yeah. And for everything, we'll make the Republic and Empire pay, right?" she asked. Annarith smiled back just as darkly. "Right," she replied.

Balmorra.

A planet devastated by war, one that contained so much suffering at the hands of either faction.

And from that suffering, two people who would change the galaxy emerged.

* * *

 **And that's a wrap on that plot bunny. Like I said, there is the chance that this will be made into an actual fic, but only once I've finished a couple of the ones that I'm currently working on. That said, let me know what you think of this short and little introduction in the review box!**

 **Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding... or am I?)**


	5. High School DxD: Artificer

Author's Note: I do not own High School DxD or anything affiliated with it. The rights to it belong solely to their respective owners.

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 **Hi, it's me again. This latest plot bunny came to me for a couple of reasons, most notably tied to several really good books I've been reading that got my imagination firing. Hope you all enjoy it, and let me know what you think!**

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Summary: I was just a regular human trying to live a semi-regular life. No devils, no angels, none of that. So why did the Student Council President see fit to make ME one of her Bishops?! …Okay, maybe the fact I can use magic had something to do with it.

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Artificer

Issei Hyoudou was bored.

Usually, whenever he and the rest of the Occult Research Club went to some event together, it was exciting. Maybe the beach, a nice restaurant, or the swimming pool. In at least two of those scenarios, he'd get to see the girls of the peerage in some really hot swimwear.

But not this time. Nope. This time Rias had dragged him and the others along to watch the school's Rocket Club launch the model they had spent all semester building into the sky for some contest. The particular details of the contest escaped him—when Rias had explained it to him, he had been a little busy watching her breasts jiggle—but they had to appear to show support for the new club, or so Rias said. Not showing up would look bad on them.

Of course, one part no one had told him was that the rocket wasn't going to go off the moment they arrived. They had gotten here ten minutes ago, and the Rocket Club was still getting things ready, double-checking and triple-checking everything to make sure nothing went wrong with the launch.

Which lead to his present boredom.

"Man, when is this thing going to start anyway?" he complained, lying back in the bleachers that had been set up in the field so that everyone watching could have a seat.

Rias Gremory chuckled at her Pawn's lack of patience. "Now, now, Issei, this is an important event for this club. As a club ourselves, we have to show support. I told you this," she said kindly.

Issei groaned but, knowing that she was right, didn't offer any more protest.

Which worked out just well enough, as the redhead's attention was diverted the arrival of a certain other club. "Well, if it isn't the Student Council themselves. Fancy seeing you here," she said.

The President of the Student Council, publicly known as Sona Shitori, smirked and bowed. "But of course, Rias. I was the one who signed off on allowing the Rocket Club to form this year. If I didn't show up to its first big event, what kind of message would that send?" she pointed out.

Rias nodded in understanding, and the two clubs began talking as they waited. The Council's Vice-President, Tsubaki Shinra, was talking with Yuuto Kiba and trying her best to stay calm. Which was usually no problem, except that just being around the blonde 'prince' had her face resembling a tomato in color. Issei and his fellow Pawn Saji were trying to one-up each other in front of Asia, again. And the others were discussing any of several various topics.

The time to launch passed quickly in this fashion, until finally there were only a few minutes left, and one member of the club stepped forward. Clearing his throat, he called "May I have everyone's attention, please?"

The students present stopped talking and looked towards the one who was speaking. He was a young man of average height, possessing a build that was slim yet not thin. His hair was the color of sea salt and arranged in a choppy pattern all over his head, as if he had cut if with a pair of dull scissors. His eyes were the color of lilacs and seemed to possess a spark of either genius… or insanity. And his outfit, consisting over a simple white lab coat over the male student uniform, completed the image.

"My name is Keijutsu Hatsume, and I would like to thank you all for coming to this event. As founder and President of Kuoh Academy's Rocketry Club, I speak on behalf of all when I say that we are grateful for your support. The fact that so many arrived today only serves as a boost to our confidence," he said, before smiling.

"But I doubt you all showed up just to hear me go on and on about how wonderful this occasion is. So, let's get right down to it." Keijutsu waved his hand at the student behind him, all dressed in the same lab coats and uniforms and were placing the rocket on its launch pad.

"The objectives for this contest, taking place nationwide, are simple. Each rocket must be designed to hold a payload of two regular eggs, and able to reach a height of at least four-hundred and fifty meters before descending. Points are given based on the height the rocket can obtain, how low the cost to assemble the rocket was, and how little damage is done to the payload during the launch, flight and landing. With that in mind, we are thirty seconds to launch, so I hope you enjoy."

Keijutsu bowed before returning to his team. Once he was close enough, his smile and he looked around. "Any last-minute delays needed?" he asked.

The other members of the club shook their heads. "No, sir. The payload is secure, the rocket is secure, and everything is performing as expected," one of them said.

The young man nodded. "Very well, let's begin," he said. The club moved away from the platform and formed a line ten feet away from the rocket, with Keijutsu holding the trigger.

"And we have launch in five… four… three… two… one… Launch!" he called, and flipped the switched. Immediately flames burst from the end of the rocket and it soared upwards, leaving behind a trail of smoke as it climbed higher and higher into the clear sky.

Th students gathered all applauded and cheered, with even Issei saying "That is awesome! Did you see that? It just took off and flew away!" Saji was of a smilar mind, watching as it kept going. "Man, how high is that thing going to go? It's getting harder to tell the higher up it shoots!"

Sona smiled at the two's enthusiasm. Take two hard-heads like them, and even they'll get excited over explosions. Boys will be boys. She noticed however, the while the Rocket Club had joined in on the applauding, their leader had not. Surprised, she looked closer and saw that Keijutsu was following the rocket with a critical eye. ' _He's waiting until after it lands to start cheering. Impressive_ ,' she thought.

Indeed, Keijutsu was looking at the rocket with unhindered intensity. As its flight continued, he frowned. That was odd. Their model had only been designed to clear the 450-mark and go no further, the team having chosen to sacrifice extra points in height for making it as efficient and safe for the payload as possible. Yet it had already cleared that mark and was still going, even going past five-hundred meters.

Just as the rocket reached 550 meters—and he began to wonder who had made the miscalculation—the rocket stopped its ascent and began hurtling back downwards, picking up speed as it came closer.

Five hundred meters. This was it. Clear skies, no wind; this was the perfect day for them to launch, and he wanted there to be as little mistakes as possible. Four hundred. Even so, he couldn't help but envision all sorts of scenarios. Maybe the shock from the launch had already damaged the eggs before they even got off the ground. Three hundred meters. Maybe the padding they had put in to shield the eggs from the landing impact wasn't enough.

Two hundred. Wasn't the parachute supposed to deploy right then? One-hundred and fifty. ' _If that chute doesn't go off, our whole chance at winning the contest are scram-'_ he thought.

Before he could finish his rather horrible pun even in his head, the rocket reached a height of one-hundred meters and deployed its parachute, abruptly slowing down its descent. A few seconds, later, at fifty meters, a secondary chute deployed and slowed it down even further, until it finally landed on the ground near the edge of the field.

Quickly, he and the other members of the club rushed to grab it and check the payload. After several tense seconds, they were able to remove the two eggs and examine them. The first one was completely intact, not a break or blemish in sight, while the second… had a hairline fracture running along it.

Keijutsu cursed under his breath. Well, they certainly weren't getting any extra points. Both eggs had to remain completely intact, not just one of them. Still, it wasn't enough damage for the team to be disqualified, and perhaps the unintended points from the extra height would make up for it.

Behind them, the entire crowd was waiting in suspense, anxious to hear the final report. Knowing that, Keijutsu looked back… and gave then a thumbs-up.

The entire crowd burst into cheers, ecstatic at having witnessed the rocket work and the team succeed. Sona clapped along with the rest of them, thoroughly impressed with what had been done today. The team lined up and a couple of them held what was left of the rocket up for them to see.

"Once again, we'd like to thank you all for attending. If you are ever interested in joining, the Rocket Club meets after school in Class 2-C every Tuesday and Thursday. Have a splendid day!" Keijutsu announced. He and the rest of the team bowed, saying as one "Thank you!"

And with that, the crowd began to disperse, getting won from the bleachers and going their separate ways. Sona and Rias exchanged a few kind words with each before Rias left, taking the rest of the ORC with her. Sona, however, stayed put and watched the Rocket Club. They were all talking excitedly and patting each on the back, glad that an entire semester of work had finally paid off.

Eventually, the group began to break off as various members left, and Sona chose that moment to come closer. "Excuse me. Hatsume-san?" she said.

Keijutsu looked over at her and blinked in surprise. "Ah, Sona-kaichou. I'm surprised that you were able to make it to this event," he said, before smiling. "Pleasantly surprised, of course. So, what brings you here?"

Sona smiled slightly in return. "I was hoping to be able to speak with you. Preferably with a little more privacy," she said.

Curious, but not questioning why, Keijutsu bid farewell to the last of his club members and followed her, while the rest of the Student Council dispersed as well.

Walking back towards the Main School Building, Sona said "I have to admit, the work you and your teammates did was impressive, even I'm not someone who's capable of rocket science."

Keijutsu chuckled. "It's actually not that difficult once you understand the concepts. It's mainly just a matter of taking what you know and trying to apply it to the situation at hand. We knew we were capable of building a rocket that met the specifications, and so we did. I have faith in every member of my team to do their part in getting the job done," he explained.

Sona hummed in thought. Focused _and_ humble, two traits that did not appear together in many people. Deciding to see how far this sense of humility went, she said "Maybe so, that doesn't mean that you can't take any credit. You were their leader, and as such the lion's share of the work must have fallen to you."

Keijutsu waved his hand. "I did have extra duties, yes, such as coordinating everyone and ensuring that all materials were ready for each meeting. But beyond that, I can claim just as much credit for myself as everyone else. No more," he stated.

Sona had to resist staring. So this man truly was humble about his talents. That was a trait she could very much respect, and was not easy to fine nowadays. Her curiosity was now even higher; she wanted to know much more about Keijutsu.

But alas, they had arrived in front of the Academy, and Keijutsu bowed. "Well, Sona-kaichou, it would seem that we part ways here. Have a good day," he said, before turning and walking away.

Not one that let her curiosity simply stew, she said "Wait." When Keijutsu looked back at her, she suddenly fumbled with what to say. How was she going to keep him close enough for her to examine without coming off as overbearing? However, almost as soon as she posed the question in her mind, the answer came to her.

"Actually, would you like for us to both eat somewhere. I'm famished, and I doubt you had much time to eat with all the preparations," she said. It was true. With all the work she had to do with the Student Council, she hadn't eaten since this morning.

Keijutsu considered the matter silently, before shrugging. "I don't see any harm in it. Lead the way, Kaichou," he replied.

Mentally cheering at her small victory, Sona lead him away from the school and to one of her favorite restaurants in town. It wasn't as large or flashy as some of the others, but was clean, had comfortable padded seats and a warm feel to it. Over the doorway was a simple wooden sign that read 'Sushi Shop'.

Upon being seated, the two were given a menu to browse and choose their orders. Keijutsu looked through and was not disappointed when many of the items revolved around raw fish in one form or another, befitting the restaurant's name. Eventually they were approached by a waiter, who pulled out a pen and pad. "Your orders?" he asked.

"I'll have an order of sashimi and rice with a small green tea," Sona said.

Keijutsu simply ordered the Shishito peppers and black tea with sugar. Once the waiter had left, her turned his attention to Sona. "So, Kaichou, is there anything you wish to speak about?" he asked politely.

Seeing the chance to uncover more of this enigma in front of her, Sona quickly asked "If you don't mind me asking, what sort of hobbies do you have? Are there any particular classes you enjoy? What dreams might you have for the future?" The questions were fired off with such speed that Keijutsu didn't have a chance to answer any of them, and he raised an eyebrow once she was done.

Sona felt a small rise of heat in her cheeks. This was not how she was supposed to act. Even if this boy had interested her, she was supposed to remain calm and collected. That was how who she was.

Thankfully, Keijutsu didn't do any more than chuckle, and said "To answer your questions is order: My hobbies involve my club activities, learning new subjects, and building things. I enjoy chemistry, physics, psychology and mathematics. And my dream is to one day build a device that will bring all my knowledge together and truly benefit mankind, whatever that device may be."

He leaned forward. "Now, for a question of my own. Why would the illustrious President of Kuoh Academy's Student Council be interested in me?" he asked.

Sona bit her lip and wondered how to respond. As she thought about it, their food arrived and they ate in silence, with Keijutsu waiting patiently for an answer. Eventually, Sona decided to simply go with the truth, and said "I noticed that you have a mixture of intelligence, focus and humility, a mixture I rarely seen in other people, and even other students. I wished to know more about you so that I might find the reason behind these traits."

Keijutsu considered this, before nodding. "I can understand that," he said, and the two of them resumed their meal. Once they were done, however, Keijutsu said "If you want to know more about me, Sona-kaichou, then why don't we simply play a game of chess?"

Sona blinked, looking at him questioningly. He reached into his bookbag and pulled out a small wooden chessboard folded in half, which he then opened and began pulling out the chess pieces. "In my experience, it is during a battle of wits that two people can learn the most about each other. What kind of thought processes they possess, the level of their intelligence and, most importantly, what they will do in a pressurized situation. So, what do you say?" he asked.

The young woman stared at him. One declaration after another, and he continued to surprise her. But when it came a challenge, she was not one to let it pass by. "Very well, Hatsume-san. I accept your challenge," she said.

He grinned. "Splendid. And please, call me Kei," he said, before placing the last piece on the board. Sona was the white pieces and Keijutsu was the black pieces, meaning that Sona was allowed the first move.

As soon as Sona placed her fingers on the Pawn piece, she felt a jolt run through her. Looking up, she could see the kindness, the near-playfulness that had been in Kei's eyes up to this point was gone. In its place was an intense look of concentration, the same one he had worn when waiting to see if his rocket would crash and fail. And suddenly, she realized that Kei indeed meant every word he said. This game was a chance to learn your opponent's nature. For her… and for him.

Without even saying it, Keijutsu had shown that he was just as interested in her as she was in him.

Now understanding the stakes at hand, Sona began by moving one of her pawns forward. A standard move, one many would expect and that gave away nothing. Keijutsu responded with the same move, thus preventing her pawn from moving forward and forcing her to make another move. No matter. She moved her Bishop forward and to her left. Another standard move, though one that implied deeper meaning.

Keijutsu chose to go with another Pawn movement, though he chose the one on the far side of the board.

Not sure what to make of it, Sona continued with her plan and moved her Queen diagonally the edge of the board. The strongest piece in the game, and her early movement of it suggested a fast-paced assault.

Only for Kei to raise his eyebrow again. "You should have guessed by now that I am not a beginner, Kaichou. The 4-Move Checkmate will not work on me," he stated, before moving his own Queen directly in front of his King.

Sona grunted. While Kei's quick deciphering of her plan meant that she would need to adjust her strategy, that was no real issue. And that fact he had been able to see it coming made things more fun for her. She pulled back her Queen in retreat, letting Keijutsu take the opportunity. Which he did, by moving one of his Knights front of the space her Queen had previously occupied. A taunt?

She copied the action with her own Knight, and Kei castled his King and Rook, causing them to both move one space closer to each other before switching places. So not a taunt after all, but preparation for a now-sturdier defense. Then she moved her Bishop forward and take the first Pawn he had moved.

Only to realize that she fallen into a trap, as Keijustu's Knight moved to capture her Bishop. Looking up again, she saw that the intense gaze was still there but now… Now it was sharing space with a glimmer of excitement. Keijutsu smiled, and Sona looked back at board. She smiled as well. Now, the true contest would begin.

* * *

Sona could not remember the last time she had out this much effort into a chess match. No matter what move she seemed to make, Kei had been able to match and, if not counter her, then do something that would upend her carefully formulated plans and force her readjust. Her skill as a tactician was unrivaled, but is seemed that the enigma sitting across from her was able to take every move and reverse engineer it to factor into his own.

But now, here in the endgame, and Sona could feel her victory close at hand. She could see it in Keijutsu's expression, could see the frustration that he barely failed to keep hidden. By this point, the both of them were done to just a handful of pieces, the other having been lost in exchanges, sacrifices or on the rare occasion one of them would make a blunder. And if she were not so excited by the match so far, Sona might have noticed that she too was breaking her normally calm disposition.

As it was, she had the upper hand with her King and her Queen while Kei had a King, Knight and a Pawn. She moved her Queen to the side and captured the Pawn, calling "And that is checkmate, Hatsume-san."

Only for Kei to suddenly smirk. "It would be, Sona-kaichou, except…" he began, before using his Knight to capture her Queen. "When I can do that. And now, I declare a draw by insufficient material," he declared.

Sona stared. He was right. All she had left was her King, and Kei had his King and his Knight. There was no possible way for her to obtain a checkmate with just a King, just as he could not obtain one with just a King and a Knight. Thus, the match ended… in a draw.

Refraining from laughing at Sona's stunned expression, Keijutsu removed the pieces from the board and began putting them away. "Still, this was an excellent match, Sona-kaichou. By far the best that I have ever had. We'll have to do this again sometime," he said.

Sona absently nodded. "Yes, yes we will…" she said.

Kei chuckled and she looked up just in time to see that spark return to his eyes. The one that spoke of either intelligence or insanity. And true to the nature of that spark, he suddenly leaned forward and gently grasped Sona's hand, placing a light kiss on it. "Then, until next time, my genius water flower," he said, before placing enough for both their meal and the tip on the table and walking out.

Sona continued to stare, first at the exit to the shop, then at her hand. A flaming blush appeared on her cheeks and she looked to where the white-haired enigma had left.

Keijutsu Hatsume… just who the hell was he?

* * *

 **And this is what I have so far of my latest plot bunny. I rather like this idea and might expand on it in the future, but that will be after I have made progress on the stories I already have ongoing. Finals and writer's block have been the death of my creativity, but hopefully now I can get things going again. And should I continue this story, the pairing will be solely Sona/OC; no harems this time around.**

 **So, what do you guys think? Let me know whether this was a good start, a bad start, whatever you think. Just don't give me flames, as that helps no one. Please review!**


	6. South Park: The New Evil

Author's Note: I do not own South Park, or anything affiliated with it. The rights to it belong solely to their respective owners.

* * *

 **So, here we are again. This bit popped up in my head after playing South Park: The Fractured But Whole and seeing the ending. It remained in my mind long enough that I finally decided to obey my muse and write it out. Needless to say, this does have spoilers for both it and The Stick of Truth. You have been warned.**

* * *

Summary: "No matter how hard you try to change the past, your dad will always have f #$%d your mom." The moment Professor Chaos said those words, he unleashed an evil he wasn't prepared for. When South Park's strongest hero becomes its greatest villain, can the Freedom Pals stop him? And if so, at what cost?

* * *

South Park: The New Evil

It was just another day for the Freedom Pals.

Dr. Timothy was looking for new assignments for the band of superheroes, Wonder Tweek and Super Craig were off having coffee together, and Human Kite (Kyle) was trying to get in touch with Netflix to see about getting that Netflix series for Mysterion.

But then, out of nowhere, they heard the alarm start to go off, and a light attached to Tupperware's computer started beeping, indicating that they were getting a message.

"What the hell? What's happening?" Mysterion (Kenny) asked gruffly, annoyed at having been interrupted during his break.

Tupperware (Token) unlocked his computer, saying "It looks we're getting a distress signal. And it's coming from…" Then he trailed off, and his expression became annoyed. "The Coon," he finished.

Toolshed (Stan) scoffed. "Just ignore. We already told that fat-ass that he's not allowed to play with us anymore after that 'Mitch Conner' shit he pulled," he said.

" _Now hold on_ ," Dr. Timothy said, speaking to them with his mind powers. " _Eric knows quite well that we're still pissed at him. If he's sending us a distress signal, then he may actually need help_."

Fastpass (Jimmy) stepped forward, the act made all the more noticeable by his crutches. "I'm st-still mad at him too. But it wouldn't to list- to listeee- to hear him out," he stuttered.

Tupperware sighed, but gave in and answered the call. Cartman's face instantly filled the screen, and he looked, for lack of a better phrase, completely freaked out. " **You guys! Oh, thank God! We got big problems!** " he said.

"If you're calling us, I don't doubt it. What'd you get yourself into this time?" Human Kite asked.

" **Me?! I didn't have anything to with this! Just- Just look!** " he said, and moved aside for them to see who else was in the Coon Lair.

When he did, the team of superheroes all gasped. Sitting in one of the chairs, completely unconscious, was Butters. He was wearing his Professor Chaos outfit, but his helmet was gone, he was covered in bruises, and both the outfit and his hair looked scorched.

"Jesus Christ! What happened to him?" Mosquito (Clyde) asked nasally.

Cartman held his hands up in surrender. " **I've got no fucking idea! He just showed up at my door like this, said he needed help, and then just fell over. I brought him into the Coon Lair before my Mom could ask any questions, but he's not looking too good** ," he explained.

At that, the others traded glances. They wouldn't put it past Cartman to have beat up Butters himself and then set this up, all so that they would let him back in the franchise. Still… If there was a possibility that this wasn't a set-up, if some new threat actually had gotten to Butters while none of them were looking…

As superheroes, they couldn't take that chance.

Mysterion sighed. "Alright, fine. Do what you can for him, and we'll be on our way," he said, before ending the call. Once he was sure that Cartman couldn't hear them, he faced his teammates. "What do you guys think? Is this really another one of his schemes?"

"Maybe. But even if it is, we'll just kick his ass again. Either way, the situation gets resolved," Human Kite pointed out.

" _I agree. Mysterion, you will go to Eric's house with Tupperware and Fastpass to investigate this. I'll see if any of the information we've gather will help with this. Mosquito, you go find Tweek and Craig and explain the situation to them. As for Toolshed, Diabetes, and Kite, you two should try and track down Call Girl. See if she knows anything_ ," Dr. Timothy said, relaying orders to everyone.

Everyone nodded, and began to move out. But just as they were, Captain Diabetes (Scott) said "Wait. What about the New Kid? Where is he?"

Looking around, Toolshed blinked in surprise. Scott was right; Butthole was nowhere to be seen. "Huh. Maybe he just went home?" he suggested.

"If he is home, we'll stop by after checking on Butters. Fastpass, Tupperware, let's go," Mysterion said, turning around and letting his cape billow out behind him, looking all cool-like.

The team of heroes left Token's basement and split up into their designated groups. Whatever had happened to Butters, they would definitely get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Cartman was surprisingly quick to answer the door once the trio of crime-fighters arrived. "You guys made it. Good. I've still got Chaos in the basement. I gave him some health Burritos and Antidote juices, but he's still pretty weak," he said, letting them inside.

Once they were inside, Tupperware looked back at him. "I'm telling you this now, Eric. If this is some kind of trick, you'll be more banned from being in the franchise than you were before," he warned.

To their even greater surprise, Cartman simply shrugged. "Fine by me. My hands are clean this time," he said, and walked in front of the basement door. After enter the keycode and listening to the keypad say "Fuck. You. Mom." before unlocking, he lead them into the Coon Lair.

True enough, Butters was still there, and looked slightly better than he did during the video call. Mysterion quickly approached him, and shook his shoulder. "Butters, are you there? Can you hear us?" he asked, lowering the amount of gruffness in his voice.

Butters groaned. "F-Fellas? Is that you? He asked, slowly opening his eyes. He did just enough for the overhead light to hit him, and he groaned even louder. "I don't feel so good…"

"I understand that, and we'll get you some help soon. But first, you need to tell us what happened? Who did this to you?" the dark hero asked.

At that, the former villain eyes went huge, and he screamed. "No! Don't me make remember that! There was fire, and then explosions, and the farts! Oh god, the FARTS!" he yelled, flailing around and falling off his chair.

Tupperware, Fastpass and Coon were quick to join in, the four of them each grabbing one of Butter's limbs and holding him down. "B-Butters, it's alright! We're you're friends! We're aren't gon-gonna hurt you!" Fastpass urged him.

After another minute, Butters finally calmed down, and the four of them let him go. As she stood back up, Coon said "Jesus, man. Whoever beat you must have really been trying to fuck you up."

Butters shivered. "Yeah, he was. But if my fears are correct, this may have been just a taste of what's coming," he said ominously.

The other four couldn't help but feel like a chill was going down their spines at that, and Tupperware said "L-Let's just sit down and start from the beginning. You can tell us how you got hurt."

Butters nodded and sat back at the table, the others joining him. There was a moment of silence, and then he started "It all happened so fast. Now that the crime in South Park is down, I was gonna go back to being 'Evil' Professor Chaos again. But Dougie didn't want to play anymore, so I needed a new sidekick. That's when I went to visit the New Kid's house…"

* * *

 _Having snuck in through the kitchen window, Professor Chaos did his best to remain unseen and unheard. The New Kid's parents were in the living room, laughing and cuddling together and staring at one another with lovey-dovey eyes. If he wasn't busy with being stealthy, he would have made a loud gagging noise. As it was, he kept it to himself and waited for Butthole to get home._

 _He didn't have to wait long. The New Kid walked through the front door, looking the same as ever—same messy brown hair and beard, a black shirt with red-and orange flames on it, light gray pants and gloves, and a pair of futuristic sunglasses on that made his look both smart and mysterious at the same time._

 _The Blaster/Psychic/Assassin/Elementalist didn't even blink at the sight of his parents on the couch, and instead stood there. Not having noticed him yet, his mother said, "You're the tickle bunny!" running her fingers up and down her husband's sides._

" _No,_ you're _the tickle bunny!" Chris replied, doing the same. After a second, though, he stopped at the sight of his son having made it back. "Oh! Hey, kiddo!" he said, waving._

 _Looking back, Kelly asked, "Been out playing with your friends, honey?"_

 _Butthole didn't respond verbally, as usual, but he did nod. His dad smiled wider at that, saying "This is a great town, isn't it?"_

 _Kelly nodded. "I love it here. I'm so glad that we decided to come clean about our child's past all those years ago. I feel like, like our lives were_ changed _by that event somehow. I love you," she said._

" _And I love you," Chris told her. The two of them moved even closer, and gazed into each other's eyes. There was a moment of silence, and then Chris said "In fact… Son, would you excuse us for a moment? Mommy and Daddy have a little business to take care of upstairs."_

 _Butthole's eyes widened, and an array of expressions flitted across his fact. First there was shock, then horror, then desperation, before it settled back to his usual neutral expression. Neither parent noticed it, but Professor Chaos did, and grinned. This would be perfect! He couldn't have asked for a better moment!_

 _As it was, Kelly said "Oh, you little sneak!" and the two of them walked upstairs._

 _Almost as if he were in a dream, the New Kid slowly followed, the meaning behind his parents' words all too clear. After everything that he went through, after all the things he had done, his Dad was_ still _going to fuck his Mom. Just like he had all those years ago._

 _Sure enough, once he was close enough to their bedroom door, he could hear the creaking of the springs in their mattress and his mother moaning. Butthole stared at the door. This was just like in the backstory Cartman gave him. His Dad, the man he trusted, was fucking his Mom, and there was nothing he could do to stop it._

 _Not even his superpowers could undo it once it had been done. No amount of magic, crime-fighting, or spacetime-manipulating farts could fix it. Not this time._

 _While the New Kid just stood there, unable to tear his gaze away from the door to his parents' room, Professor Chaos appeared behind him. Choosing his moment, he began with a low, sinister laugh, one that caught Butthole's attention but didn't cause him to look back._

" _Did you really think that you could stop bad things from happening?" he asked. The New Kid did look back at him, but said nothing. The villain continued "Now do you see? It doesn't matter what you say, or what you do. Sooner or later, Chaos will always catch up with you. That's why, rather than fight the inevitable, I embrace it."_

 _Slowly, he approached Butthole from behind. "You've tried being a hero, and see what that got you. Right back where you started. Why not just give in for once, and let your darker side free?" he suggested._

 _The New Kid looked away and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he felt anger well up in him. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the Professor's words had a ring of truth to them. He hadn't expected for Mitch Connor to pull that move in sending them to the past, but at least then he had been able to prevent the tragic event that made up his backstory._

 _Only for that same event to play out here and now, in the present. It felt like… like no matter… "There's only one truth in this life, New Kid. No matter how hard you try to change that past, you Dad will always_ , always _, have fucked your mom._ "

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold the phone!" Coon yelled, stopping Butter's in the middle of his recollection.

When the other heroes looked at him, he placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Are you telling me that you actually tried to convince Butthole to betray us? Dude, if he kicked your ass for that, then I am _not_ sorry!"

Butters twiddled his thumbs nervously. "Well, yeah! I mean, having him join me as a supervillain would have been really cool! Not to mention it would have made a great plot twist for the franchise. So why not try to convince him?" he pointed out.

Tupperware sighed. "Dude, that's really the kind of thing you should clear with the Doctor first. Nowhere in the franchise plan he came up with did any of us turn evil!" he said.

"We can w-worry about that l-later. What happened next? Butthole sai-said 'no', right?" Fastpass asked.

Now looking even more nervous, Butters said "Well, you see, here's the thing…"

* * *

 _For a long moment, neither Professor Chaos or the New Kid said anything. Chaos wasn't surprised at not having gotten a verbal response, but he was waiting for an answer of some kind._

 _As for the New Kid, he was trying to push back the anger in him. As much as he didn't want them too, so many negative memories began popping up in his mind._

 _Clyde blaming him for getting banished from space and time. The security guard in front of Token's house hitting him with pepper spray. Princess Kenny's unexpected betrayal._

 _The time he had been forced to choose between ripping off his mother's arm with his own hands or cutting off his father's head with a laser. His parents constantly arguing before he changed the past. And when the other heroes even had the gall to blame him for sending them forward in time to when Mitch was already mayor._

 _When they were the ones that asked him to do that!_

 _And now, with all that put together, when he heard Professor Chaos's words, he could feel something inside himself just_ _break_ _._

 _The New Kid's eyes snapped opened and he drew in a deep breath. Releasing it as a long, drawn-out sigh, he said "You're right."_

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm calling bullshit on that one! Butthole does not talk! That's one of his things!" Coon protested.

The others glared at him, with Mysterion saying "Would you shut the fuck up?!" before turning back to Butters. "And then?" he asked.

* * *

 _For a moment, Professor Chaos could have sworn his ears were playing tricks on him. Did the New Kid… just talk to him? But the New Kid never talked. Well, except for that one time when they threw the Stick of Truth into the lake and he said that he was going home. But besides that, never._

 _Before he had time to contemplate if that had indeed just happened, the hero spun around and punched him straight in the stomach. Chaos cried out in pain and stumbled back. The hit had been hard enough that he nearly felt like vomiting, and tears sprang up at the corners of his eyes._

" _Douchebag! What the hell?!" he yelled, too stunned to even notice that Butthole had assumed a fighting position, indicating that they were starting a battle. Or that, since the New Kid struck first, he would have the first turn._

 _The New Kid gathered up his energy and placed his hand on the ground. Disregarding the fact that the floor wasn't made of sand, as well as the fact that they were on the second story of a house, a geyser of sand burst out of the floor and slammed into the villain. Butters cried out from the hit, but he managed to pull himself together in time for it to be his turn._

" _Alright. If it's a fight you want, you've got one!" Chaos called. Holding his hands together, he formed a sphere of pure energy before unleashing it straight at the New Kid, who was struck in the chest by the blast. However, the New Kid didn't do anything other than grimace. Now that it was his turn, he pulled a trio of small bombs out of his pocket and threw them forward._

 _They landed right behind Chaos, and he had just enough time to yell "Aw, hambur-!" before they exploded, sending him through the air. He fell down in the spot where the New Kid had been standing, while the hero took his spot and turned invisible. "Dang it. How am I supposed to hit you if I can't see you?" he said, trying to think of what to do._

 _But then he remembered that he did have one power that didn't require him to see his foe, and would actually be a great help here. The Professor grinned, before calling "Oh, minion!" and whistling loudly. In response, a tall Mexican man appeared, wearing a black shirt and pants._

" _Un trabajo? Ahora?" the minion asked in Spanish, before putting on a set of tin foil armor with the word 'Minion' written on it. However, before he could finish, they both felt a rush of air and saw a massive cloud of green gas burst out of nowhere. Chaos nearly gagged at the small of the gas, the whole cloud of it smelling like one giant fart. Which, knowing Butthole, it probably was._

 _When the gas cleared, however, Butters saw that his minion was nowhere in sight, and he blinked. "What the-? Did my turn just get skipped?" he thought aloud._

 _Apparently, it had, as the New Kid threw three fireballs at him that each hit, setting his outfit and hair on fire. Butters screamed in terror and pulled out an Antidote, quickly chugging it down and using up his turn to put the fire out._

 _With it now his turn yet again, the New Kid summoned the wave of sand again and dealt another solid hit, bringing Chaos's health down even further. But this time, the villain was able to strike back, and called "Chaos Confuse-O-Tron!" A pair of cardboard tesla coils wrapped in tin foil burst out of the floor on either side of the New Kid and started sparking._

 _Professor Chaos laughed and unleashed the energy in the machine, shocking and dazing anything within range of the move. Which, in this case, was the New Kid. Then the cardboard coils faded away, and the New Kid glared at him. He threw another trio of fireballs, setting Chaos back on fire even as he winced in pain from the static shock._

 _Butters panted, all the fighting and his injuries taking their toll on him. What was more, he honestly wasn't sure if he could beat the New Kid anyway. He had lost against Butthole back when they fought for the Stick of Truth, and again when he had his giant minion mecha fighter. Granted, he had help both times, but it was still the final result that counted._

'If I want to end this, I've got to end it now! _' he thought. Reaching deep down inside himself, he called upon all his strength and yelled "This is the end, New Kid! For it is time that I unleashed… the Hammer of Chaos!"_

 _With that said, he glowed bright and grew in size, until the child Professor Chaos was replaced with a giant version of himself, one that was older, muscular, and a lot more intimidating. Chaos laughed and held one hand towards the sky. Several bolts of lightning shot down through the roof—somehow not damaging it in the process—and gathered in his palm. Once they stopped, they took the shape of a massive war hammer. "It's over, New Kid!" he called, swung the hammer down._

 _The New Kid's response? It was to smirk at him before unleashing another massive fart, one so large that it actually caused time to freeze for a span of several seconds. In that time, the New Kid wailed on Chaos over and over with his fists, the villain unable to stop it since he was frozen. And just before the time-freeze ended, the New Kid moved to side of where the hammer would land._

 _Time started back up and the hammer slammed into the ground, hitting the floor and doing absolutely nothing. Chaos stared in horror, but there was nothing he could do. His ultimate move spent, he turned back into his child self and fell on his ass. Meanwhile, Butthole was still wearing that smirk of his. Chaos quickly realized that, while he had just used up his strongest attack, the New Kid hadn't._

 _And sure enough, the moment it was his turn, the New Kid conjured a small ball of pure energy in hands before swallowing it. A loud rumbling filled the air as the energy when down his throat, pausing briefly at his stomach, and then racing through his digestive system. Then he turned so that he was facing away from Chaos and braced himself._

 _The moment the energy came into contact with his sphincter, the New Kid unleashed it all in an explosion of fire, wind and shit. It spread outwards and slammed into Chaos, dealing massive damage while simultaneously gassing him and setting him on fire. The Professor screamed in pain from the barrage and tried to hold on._

 _But it was no good. Not even he could withstand such an attack, and finally collapsed once the move ended. It was over._

 _The fight now done, the New Kid pulled out a taco and ate it, healing himself back up. Then he walked up to the unconscious form of Butters and looked down at him. Now that he had actually done it, he could see that the blonde was right. It_ did _feel nice to let his anger out, to do evil and not worry for the consequences. So nice, in fact, that he wanted to do it again._

 _But he knew that the moment Butters woke up, he'd tell the rest of the Freedom Pals and they'd start looking for him. And with Dr. Timothy's mind powers, it would only be a matter of time before he succeeded. With that in mind, he reached down and yanked Chaos's aluminum helmet off his head, before walking away._

 _He had work to do._

* * *

"And after that, once I woke up, I was able to make my way here to Cartman's, since his house is so close to Butthole's. Thank God for that," Butters finished.

For a long moment, there was silence. Every hero present was quiet, trying to take everything they had learned in. The Amazing Butthole, the most silent but most powerful hero out of all of them, the one whose own farts could warp time itself… had turned evil.

"This is not good. Not good at all," Fastpass said, not even stuttering due to his shock.

"No kidding. To think that something like this could happen…" Tupperware said, looking at the floor.

Eventually, Mysterion was the first to come out of his funk, and said "We have to let everyone know about this. If any of them encounter Butthole and don't realize that he's turned on us, they'll be in real trouble."

"I agree. We should take Butters back to the Freedom Pals base as quickly as possible. That way he can tell everyone else too," Cartman added.

The other heroes looked at him, hesitating for moment. Coon was involved in this now, yes, but that didn't mean that they'd forgiven him for nearly getting them all killed— _again—_ in his bid to make every day Christmas.

Still, this issue was bigger than their personal feelings, and they might need all the help they could get. Which was why Mysterion eventually nodded, and said "Very well. Fastpass, get us back to base as quick as you can. The sooner we can act on this, the better."

"R-Right away," Jimmy said, and they each grabbed a part of his shirt before the speedster blurred from sight, shooting out of the basement and running all the way back to Token's house.

* * *

 **And that ends this plot bunny. I'm not as hyped about this one as I have been the others, so if I do make a story out of this one, it won't be for a while. In any case, I hoped you enjoyed it!**

 **Please review! If you flame me then the New Kid will fart on that flame while it's in still in your hand. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)**


	7. FateStay Night: FateRevenge

Author's Note: I do not own Fate/Stay night, or anything affiliated with it. The rights to it belong solely to their respective owners.

* * *

Summary: Shirou was not the only child to survive the fire. Another lived, one who swore an oath to punish whoever was responsible for such devastation. An oath that Angra Mainyu saw fit to assist in… by making her the master of the eighth Servant, Avenger, in the Fifth Holy Grail War.

* * *

Fate/Revenge

Chapter 1: Born in Fire

It can be said that chaos was beautiful.

Indeed, many said that when something was perfect, it was because of how it was ordered. For people, it was their physical appearance. For inanimate objects, it was much the same. For a song, it was how the notes blended together into a pleasing and unforgettable melody. In all these cases, it was the arrangement, the order, of something that gave it beauty.

But the lack of order could also produce a beauty unlike anything else. A beauty that ephemeral, unpredictable, and could not be shaped by any hands, be they moral or divine.

Only the most chaotic things could produce such beauty. One prime example of such a thing was fire. And now, one little girl was witnessing the beauty of fire first-hand.

All around her, the fire raged, consuming buildings, trees, people, everything. It had happened out of nowhere. One moment everything in Fuyuki City was fine. The next, massive fire appeared out of nowhere, spreading out from the theater in Miyama and affecting all in its wake. It didn't matter whether it was wood, steel, stone, everything burned.

Her family, having lived in small house near the theater, had been one of the first to be ruined. Strangely enough, the fire had come in more of flood than blaze, like lava from a volcano, or mud from a landslide. But her house burned all the same, and they were all separated as a result.

"Daddy? Mommy! Where are you?!" she called, but there was no response. None other than the screams of others as their own houses crumbled, leaving them trapped inside to fry.

As they burned, the buildings began collapsing too, covering the streets in debris while belching smoke into the night sky. Maybe her parents were trapped inside of one of the houses, trying to help others out. Her Mommy and Daddy had always been kind like that.

Trying her best to avoid the rubble around her and block out the screaming—she wouldn't be able to keep going if she didn't—she approached a pile of stone and metal that looked like it had been a convenience store. She could remember this one. The storeowner always let her have a piece of candy when he parents weren't looking, and making jokes when they were.

She reached down and tried to pull away the closest piece of broken concrete. But not only was she too small and too weak to lift it, but the red-hot stone burned her hands when she touched it.

"AAH!" she called, staggering back and looking down at her hands. They were bright red and already blistering, the previous smooth skin warped and marred. The pain nearly brought her to tears, and would have, had she not hit her ankle on a rock and fallen backwards into a huge puddle of… was this mud?

If it was, the mud was scorching hot, as it enveloped and burned her at the same time, causing the girl to scream further and struggle to get out. It would have been a simple matter of turning over onto her hands and knees to stand out, were she thinking clearly.

But how can a nine-year old think clearly when they were being smothered by burning, dirty, mud? So, she flailed around, actually sinking deeper into mud (it was deeper than first glance suggested).

"No! Help me! Someone, help!" she screamed. The mud was covering everything but her face now, the weight of pushing down on her. She struggled harder, trying to free herself from it. Someone had to hear her screaming, someone had to see her fighting. They would see her, and save her!

In fact, she could have sworn she saw someone, a man with black hair in a black trench coat. He seemed to be wandering through the fire in a daze, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. And he was crying. Why was he crying?

Then the mud covered her face and she felt no more.

* * *

…

…

…

…She didn't know how long she had been here.

Ever since she sank into the mud, all she had known was darkness and heat. And not the comforting heat, like when you place your hands over a warm fire or feel the sun shining on your face. No, this heat was all around her, smothering her, making impossible to move, impossible to breathe.

Yet, somehow, she didn't die, or even pass out. Perhaps fate had decided that she would live, or was being cruel and letting her suffer. Or maybe it was pure chance. She wasn't sure.

The little girl was sure of thing, however. If she couldn't hope to survive this kind of hell (she had never used the word before, but it certainly fit here) then how could her Mother or Father survive it either?

She couldn't move, but she could cry, and wept for the death of her parents. The death of her friends. Of everything she had ever known.

Again, she wasn't sure how long she was in there, wallowing in darkness, heat and despair, unable to escape.

But eventually, after her tears had long run out, and she resigned herself to dying, she heard a voice. A male voice, one that seemed to be in as much pain as she was. And yet, at the same time, it seemed calm. As if it were used to the pain.

" **Do you wish to live?** "

The girl looked around, not seeing anything within the void. Then, despite the fact that the mud should have kept her from seeing, a small light appeared before her. A flickering red ember, no more than a dot.

Regardless, it was something, and she chased towards it. She tried to will her body to move, it felt like she did. The heat was still there, enveloping her, but now it felt like she was moving through it. Towards that flickering ember.

The closer she got, the larger the ember grew. By the time she was right in front of it, it was the size of a house, casting its light in all directions in the void. And in the center of the fire, untouched by it, was a shadowy person.

She couldn't make out any details of their appearance, only that they were shaped like a human. Nonetheless, when she heard the voice again, she knew it was this figure that it came from.

" **I ask you, do you wish to live?** "

"W-Who are you?" she asked fearfully. Her parents always told her to never trust strangers, and this was one.

The figure paused, almost as if it were surprised, and tilted its head. After a moment of silence, it said " **My name… is Angra Mainyu. However, if you wish, you may simply call me Avenger. What is your name?** "

The girl hesitated, before responding "Ira. Kurashi Ira."

Avenger nodded. " **Very well. Now, Kurashi Ira, I will ask you once more time. Do you wish to live past this event, which was all started by one person?** " it asked.

Ira looked up at that. "Wait. Someone started the fire? Who would do that?!" she asked.

" **I won't tell you** ," Avenger said bluntly, making Ira hang her head. However, she looked back up when it added " **But I will tell you that the one who caused this fire, the man who did it, he truly is worth of the title of 'All the World's Evils'. That much is certain.** "

She nodded. That made sense. All the pain and suffering caused by the fire, the number of people that had been hurt, all the lives lost… If one person to was responsible for all that, then they were definitely a bad person. And a person that bad definitely deserved a name like 'All the World's Evils'.

Then she remembered the man in the trench coat. Unlike everyone else, he hadn't been hurt by the fire. Instead, he was just wandering around, watching and crying. Was that him? Was that the bad man?

If he was, then she needed to go back. She needed to find him, and make sure that he paid for being such a bad person!

Looking towards Avenger, Ira nodded. "Yes. Yes, I want to go back. He has to be punished," she said, the determination in her voice completely at odds with the fact she was a child.

If Avenger was disturbed by it, he didn't give an indication, and simply nodded. Reaching towards her, she saw the flames around him gather into a ball in his hand. The light from that little ball was almost blinding, and she covered her eyes to avoid it.

She didn't reopen them until she heard Avenger say " **Here.** " She opened her eyes, and saw that, where there had been a ball of fire, now there was only a cup.

It was a really fancy cup, completely golden and shining prettily. It was pretty big too, too big for anyone to reasonably drink from. Yet, before her eyes, the cup began to magically fill with mud, the same kind of mud she had fallen into.

Once it was full to the brim, Avenger held out the cup towards here. " **Drink this. This cup represents me, and the mud represents my power. Take it into yourself, and you shall have the strength to survive this night. And one day, you may be able to deliver the punishment you seek to mete** ," he explained.

Ira hesitated, unsure if she should accept. The stuff in this cup was the same stuff that hurt her, that hurt so many people and destroyed her home. If she drank it, wouldn't that be hurting herself? But Avenger said it would make her stronger, and he didn't seem like the kind to lie. What should she do?

Apparently, Avenger interpreted her hesitation as denial, and spoke more firmly. " **Take it. Drink from the Holy Grail, and you can survive. Do you not wish to punish the man you caused this fire? Who hurt you and your family?** " it asked.

Her family. Yes… Mommy… Daddy… They were both gone now, two more people who the fire had killed. But if she could live, if she could make sure the person responsible suffered… then those deaths wouldn't be in vain. And to do that, she had to take the cup.

Nodding once more, Ira took the Grail from Avenger's hands and lifted it to her lips, letting the mud pass between her lips. It burned just much on the inside as it had on the outside, and constantly got stuck in her throat on the way down. Not to mention that there was so much. Seriously, who needed a cup this big anyway?!

But eventually, she managed to drink it all, and swallowed the last bit of it. The moment she did, the cup vanished in a burst fire, and the flames that had been around Avenger re-ignited, burning hotter and more beautifully than ever. Ira screamed as pain suddenly wracked her nine-year-old body, causing her to double over and then fall onto her side.

But rather than help, Avenger simply stood there, wreathed in his own flames and watching as she twisted on the ground. The fire grew with each passing second, until they were all she could see. He finally spoke one last time. " **I will see you again, Kurashi Ira, in ten years' time. Grow strong until then, so that you may fulfill the wish, both yours and mine. I long to be born, and where Kiritsugu failed, you may yet succeed.** "

But Ira did not hear any of this, distracted as she was by the pain. Slowly, her vision grew dark, her own screams becoming muffled, until all was darkness and silence once more.

* * *

The pile of mud slowly evaporated, more like water than real mud, and left the body of Ira Kurashi behind. Only now, she had become changed.

Her hair had lengthened, reaching her waist as turning the same shade of red as dried blood. About three-fourths of the way down, it darkened even further, turned onyx black. By contrast, her skin had paled to the point that it was almost like porcelain, not a blemish or burn in sight. When she opened her eyes, they were the same red as her hair.

Slowly getting to her feet, Ira looked around. The fires in Fuyuki had long since gone out, and now there was nothing left but smoke and debris. Chances were that there was nothing left of her house either, which was a problem. Where was she going to live?

At that moment, she became aware of a pair of nearby voices, one of them saying "I can't believe we struggled over that ridiculous thing as if it could actually grant wishes. This play remained a meaningless joke right to the end."

She could hear another voice respond, and walked towards them. Climbing over a small hill of rubble, she was treated to a very strange sight.

There was a young man, with blonde hair and red eyes, who was sitting on top of stone column. He was almost completely naked, showing off every inch of his flesh to the world save for what was covered by a red cloth, and seemingly not giving a damn about it. The other person was also a man, though he was wearing clothes that looked like a priest's, with brown hair and dark eyes.

The moment she was within sight of the two of them, the golden-haired man raised an eyebrow. "So, one of the mongrels managed to survive? I suppose, given the number of them that were here, I shouldn't be too surprised," he stated.

Ira frowned. Did he just refer to her as some kind of dog? Pushing the thought aside for later, she approached the man wearing clothes. He was priest, and priests were supposed to help those in need, right?

Once she was standing before him, she said "Please, I have nowhere to go. Will the Church take me in?"

Kirei looked down at the girl, and almost immediately dismissed her. There was nothing special about her, save for her somewhat unusual hairstyle and eye color. Certainly not something for his to waste his time with, not that he cared in the first place.

But just before he could say 'no', Kirei felt a pulse where his heart had once been. Glancing down at his chest in surprise, he felt a similar pulse coming from the air in front of him. Or more precisely, from this girl in front of him.

Had she been given life by the Grail, just as he had? If so, why? Now his curiosity had been piqued, and he certainly couldn't leave in unabated. ' _I suppose_ ,' he thought. ' _I can take her with me back to the Church, and let her stay there for a day or two. At least long enough for me figure out why she was saved as well_.'

With that in mind, he looked down at the girl. Surprisingly, she had been waiting patiently for an answer, her expression never once shifting from the stoic frown she wore. Good. If he had to deal with a bunch of crying, it would have made taken a much greater toll on his patience.

"Yes, the Church can offer you sanctuary, at least for the time being. Come with me," he said, and turned around without waiting for a response.

As he walked away, Ira followed behind him, and Gilgamesh's eyebrow rose even further. "And now the little one is coming with us? What are you up to, Kirei?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Kirei replied "Just looking to satisfy my curiosity. Nothing more," and kept walking. Gilgamesh stared at him for a moment, before chuckling and following as well.

* * *

 **So, yes, this is the latest plot bunny to infiltrate my mind. I've been watching the Fate series, specifically Fate/Zero and the first half of Unlimited Blade Works, plus I've been doing a LOT of research on the Type-Moon wikia. I think this story has a real chance of being continued later on and, if so, I'll probably be somewhat following the UBW route, since that's the one I've been focused on. Plus I've got a few ideas as to who her Servant who could be. Either way, let me know what you think!**

 **Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)**


	8. Teen Titans: Immortal Malefactors

**And here we are again. My mind has been really active as of late with regards to new ideas for fics... but unfortunately, none of that energy has generated anything new for my ongoing ones. So, as usual, I'm putting that energy to use, in whatever form it arrives as, and posting theme here. Hence the triple update. This one came as a result of several songs I've been listening to, the Sociology class I'm taking, and the fact that I've started watching Teen TiTans again. Enjoy!**

* * *

Summary: Slade's plan was to destroy the Titans and take over Jump City. But Slade was only a mercenary, someone doing a job he was hired to. Which begs the question... who were his employers? Who hired Slade to defeat the Titans, and what will they do once he's gone?

* * *

Teen Titans: Immortal Malefactors

Chapter 1: Taking the Job

It was with no small amount of curiosity that Slade Wilson entered the warehouse. It was an old building near the docks that had been unused for several years, with several stacks of wooden crates assembled in the corners and a catwalk above his head.

The moment he set foot inside, he was able to instantly find at least five possible exit points, not counting the door he just stepped through. He also quickly checked if there was anyone in the shadows, waiting to attack. Seeing no one, he relaxed the slightest amount. This wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to lure him into a trap with the promise of job. All in the hope of claiming one of the many bounties on his head in various other countries.

But the bounties hadn't been placed for no reason. Although Slade wasn't one to brag, he _was_ considered to be one of the most, if not the most, dangerous mercenary in entire world. The number of people he had killed for money was high enough that he had stopped trying to keep count long ago. But still, that didn't prevent people from thinking that they could still get the drop on him, instead of the other way around.

Luckily, this wasn't one of those times when someone tried, so he took another step into warehouse. The moment he did, the lights flickered on, bathing the interior in a faint yellow light, coming from bulbs that obviously needed to be replaced.

What caught his attention, however, was what was in the center of the warehouse. It was a large wooden dining table, covered in a white tablecloth, with two candles and a set of empty plates, enough to feed over a dozen people. There was one chair at the end closest to him. At the other end, two people were seated, a man and a woman, who Slade assumed to be the ones who wanted to hire him. An assumption that turned out to be true when the man called "Ah, so this is the infamous Deathstroke the Terminator. Please, sit!"

Though momentarily put-off by the strange display, Slade decided to do just that, and sat at the dining table. As he did, he got his first good look at his new employers.

They both appeared to be relatively young, early thirties at most, though he knew appearances could be deceiving. One thing he noticed was the rather pallid skin tone they both shared. Indeed, they both were pale enough that it was almost like they hadn't seen sunlight a day in their lives, though the woman seemed to be a bit less pale.

She was almost five-and-a-half feet in height and had long brown hair that reached waist and partially covered one of her green eyes, with painted red lips. She was also wearing a deep crimson Victorian style dress, with elbow-length gloves and a choker. She smiled at him when he sat down, but he could see that the smile was fake, practiced. Nor did it reach her eyes.

The male, on the other hand, was both tall and unnaturally thin, seeming to be nearly six in height with very long limbs. He also had brown hair, though shorter and darker in color, with gray eyes. He wore a black pinstripe suit with a white shirt and gray tie, as well as black wrist-length gloves. Like the woman, he also smiled, but his was even less genuine.

Once Slade was seated, the woman said "Wonderful. Now that everyone's here, we can begin eating."

The two of them each reached for the silverware, but Slade cleared his throat. "Forgive me for my rudeness, but I'm afraid I don't have time to spend on a meal. I'm here because I was told that you had a job request for me, Mister and Miss…" he said, deliberately trailing off.

The man blinked, and said "Oh, we haven't exchanged names? How rude of us. My name is Charles Du Mort, and this is my wife, Elena."

Elena inclined her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister…" she said, repeating his action.

For a moment, Slade was silent. It was obvious that they were requesting his real name, seeing as they had already previously addressed him by his professional name. But would he be willing to say it? To be honest, he had been contemplating for a while as to whether or not to drop the 'Deathstroke' title and simply have his enemies refer to him by his first name.

Deciding it wouldn't kill him, he minutely shrugged and said "Slade Wilson, Mr. and Mrs. Du Mort. Now, what is it that you want to hire me for?"

Elena chuckled, saying "Straight to business, I see." When he didn't respond, she said "Very well. My husband and I have been residents of Jump City for quiet some time. During that time, we've privately been manipulating events behind the scenes in order to turn the city into our vision of what we want it to be."

"Oh?" the mercenary asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Indeed. Keeping the size of law enforcement to a minimum—and making that minimum become progressively smaller—and doing the opposite with the crime. Ensuring that honest businesses end up on the dry end of the cash flow, while the ones willing to indulge in more… dubious... lines of work make more profit than ever. These are just a few of things we've been doing," Charles explained.

Elena added on, saying "Basically, our vision for Jump City is to turn it into a black hole of sin and depravity, one that will set the standard for all others. Even more so than Gotham."

Slade raised both eyebrows behind his mask. They wanted to make Jump more crime-filled and depraved than _Gotham City_? The poster city for crime and corruption? He had to give them points for ambition, in any case.

"Seems like you have this 'vision' of yours completely planned out. What do you need my help for?" he questioned.

At that, Charles sighed. "We need your help due to a recent and rather unexpected development. We chose to start with Jump City because it had no residential superheroes, vigilantes, et cetera. But now, a new group of heroes has recently shown up, a quintet of youngsters calling themselves the 'Teen Titans'."

"In just the short time they've been here, they've already begun lowering the crime by a significant portion, and people are starting to gain hope. They've even built a new symbol of hope for the city in the form of that tower they occupy in the middle of the bay."

Elena's face twisted in disgust. "At the rate they're going, those five children will undo decades of work that my husband and I put some much effort into. _That's_ why we need you, Mr. Wilson. This group of heroes is unexpectedly strong, to the point that only a fighting force of your caliber will be able to destroy them," she said.

Slade hummed and sat back, considering. Taking on a group of superheroes was no small feat, even for someone like him. Defeating them would require time, resources, a base of operations, and many other things. All of which cost money.

"You're asking me to perform an extended mission involving the assassination of five public, high-profile targets. Something like that won't be cheap, especially by my standards."

Mr. Du Mort smiled that fake smile again and reached into his breast pocket. Pulling out a folded check, he placed it on the table, and then pushed it forward. The piece of paper slid across the table, stopping right within Slade's reach. The professional killer quickly picked it up and unfolded it. However, save for Charles's signature, there was nothing written on it.

It was a blank check.

Slade quickly looked up at the couple with a wide eye, understanding the gesture instantly. And Elena confirmed it, saying "When it comes to money, we have no short supply, even by your standards. As long as you do everything in your power to rid Jump City of the Teen Titans, you can name whatever price you wish."

He looked back and forth between them and the check. This was the first time a client was letting him have total control over his price. They weren't even trying to negotiate for something relatively small. If he wanted, this job could quite literally set him up for life. He'd be a fool not to accept.

However, as tempting as the offer was, he still one question to ask. "And what's to stop me from taking the money and then betraying you?"

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Besides our trust in your solemn word?" he asked jokingly. When Slade gave him a flat stare in return, he smiled. "Well, even if you decided to expose us, no prison could hold my wife and I indefinitely, no matter how hard or for how long they tried."

Then his smile, along with all semblance of kindness, vanished. "Same goes for if you try to kill us."

Slade tensed. "…Is that so?" he asked.

Elena nodded, removing her gloves. "Very much so. No matter how much effort you put into it, my husband and I will not be killed. Not by you, or anyone else," she stated seriously.

In an instant, the sidearm trapped to Slade's left leg made its way into his hand, and he pointed it at them. "Not even if I were shoot you here and now?" he challenged.

As one, the couple both nodded, and Slade's eye narrowed even further. There was a tense moment of silence between them. Slade debated whether or not to shoot a pair of lunatics with delusions of invulnerability, even if they were offering him _any_ amount of money for this job. Mr. and Mrs. Du Mort, on the other hand, simply waited to see if he would follow through on his threat.

However, after almost half a minute had passed by with no change, Charles abruptly sighed and stood up. Slade focused the gun on him, but if it worried him, he gave no indication of it. Rather, the man said "Perhaps it would be easier if we just showed you. Actions do speak louder than words, after all."

With that, he stepped behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. Then, faster than Slade could react, he reached up, gripped the upper and lower sides of her head, and twisted.

A loud _snap_ filled the air, and Slade stared at the body of Elena Du Mort, her neck now thoroughly broken and her head twisted at an unnatural angle. Her eyes were also wide and appeared to be shocked, not having anticipated her husband to actually try to kill her. And Charles simply sat back down, acting as if nothing happened.

Before Slade could say or do anything, however, Elena's arm suddenly shot out and stabbed her husband in the chest. She blinked, and her expression became annoyed. Then she pulled and, with a sickening squelch, she literally ripped his heart out of his chest.

Likewise, Charles also had an expression of shock, before it quickly changed into one of exasperation. "Really, dear? You could have just snapped my neck like I did yours. Now my suit is ruined, and this was one of my favorites," he complained, looking down as blood quickly began soaking into the fabric.

Placing his heart on the plate in front of her, Elena reached up and twisted her neck back into place with another _snap_. "And I told you before that I don't enjoy having my neck broken. Everything appears upside-down when that happens, and the disorientation annoys me," she countered frankly.

Charles conceded the point with a bow of his head, before looking at Slade. By now, the gun had already fallen out of his hand in shock, and he simply stared at the both of them.

What he had just witnessed should not have been possible, for several reasons. First off, a normal human like Charles should not have been able to generate the torque needed to break a human neck just by twisting it. Second, after having her neck broken, Elena should _definitely_ not have been able to move, much less strike her husband with enough force to pierce skin, muscle and bone before pulling one of his organs out. And after losing his heart, Charles _should_ have been dead. But instead, he was simply irritated, as if someone has scuffed his shoes.

All in all, the vivid and grotesque display they just put on for him shouldn't have happened at all. Which, in turn, led him to ask, "Just what the hell _are_ you two?"

The Du Morts looked at each other for a moment, communicating silently. Then, Elena answered "The two of us were humans at one point in time, long ago. However, since then, we've changed into something both less… and more. And that change came with an immunity to death."

Charles nodded. "But that is not the issue at hand. Now that we've demonstrated why we're confident that you won't betray us, will you accept our job request?" he questioned.

Slade was silent. It was one thing to be strong enough to avoid being injured. Superman literally took bullets to chest an almost a daily basis. The Martian Manhunter could turn himself intangible and let attacks pass through him. Even the Flash could simply use his speed and outrun or dodge most hits. But it was an entire other thing to take a hit, being heavily injured, and not even blink. Even Slade himself, for all the enhancements he possessed, couldn't just shrug off injuries of the extent these two could.

And that thought, that turning on them would only end in failure, was what solidified his decision. "Very well. I accept," he said.

As one, both Elena and Charles smiled, and Slade couldn't help but note that, this time around, the smiles were real. "Splendid! You don't know how glad we are to hear that," Elena said.

Charles stood back up, saying "And as a gesture of good will, we'll even help by giving you a working minion."

Slade grunted and was about to say that he didn't need a 'minion', but then Charles walked over and stood in front of an open section of the warehouse. Reaching into the hole in his chest, he moved his hand around inside and let it get covered in blood, before he then pulled it back out and let it begin dripping onto the concrete.

Sensing his confusion, Elena elaborated "Along with our being incapable of dying, my husband and I possess other certain abilities. One of these being that, when we let our blood come into contact with any other material, we can choose to use that material to create life."

Sure enough, after Charles wiped as much of his blood as he could against the concrete, the blood began to sink into it as it were water. Once it was all gone, the entire warehouse started shaking. Several cracks appeared in the concrete, and Charles took a few steps back.

Then, Slade heard a muffled shout, and a massive arm made of concrete out of the ground. That arm was followed a shoulder, and then a head and torso. In moments, a giant monster made entirely out of concrete had emerged. It opened its red eyes and slowly looked upwards... before unleashing a fiendish roar towards the heavens.

Satisfied with his work, Charles looked back at Slade. "I don't know about you, but I'm thinking of calling him 'Cinderblock'."

* * *

 **And that ends this plot bunny. I may expand on this one in the distant future, but the chances of it are not very likely. In any case, tell me what you thought, and I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding... or am I?)**


	9. Teen Titans: Novafire

**And here we are again. My mind has been really active as of late with regards to new ideas for fics... but unfortunately, none of that energy has generated anything new for my ongoing ones. So, as usual, I'm putting that energy to use, in whatever form it arrives as, and posting theme here. Hence the triple update. This one came as a result of several Titans fanfictions I've been reading, which in turn was due to the fact that I've started watching the series again. Enjoy!**

* * *

Summary: They were sold into slavery, but escaped to Earth. A twin brother and sister, both part of the royal family of Tamaran, have arrived in Jump City. And with four other teens, they will find a new home, a new family.

* * *

Teen Titans: Novafire

Chapter 1: Arrival on Earth

Flying through space, not far from Earth's orbit, was a ship. The ship appears to be some sort of alien war vessel. Its entire body was mainly red, with a disc-shaped fuselage, several spikes extending from that disc, and two larger ones flanking the main gun. A narrow spiral tope by a sphere sat in the center, seeming to be the command center.

Inside the ship, the sound of two agonizing screams could be heard, one male and the other female, though their voices were muffled. A pair of aliens walked through one of the corridors. These aliens were covered in blue0green scales, save for their chests and fins, which were a dark yellow, and their red eyes. They had long tails and appeared to be a mix of some humanoid reptile and fish. Each one carried a spear that was the same yellow as their fins.

The two voices screamed again, more akin to angry roars, and several dull thuds rang through the air, like pounding on metal. The two aliens grimaced and kept walking, ignoring the other aliens of various species in their own cells that they passed by.

The farther they walked, the clearer the shouting—and pounding—became. As they reached the end of the corridor, the door slid open to reveal two more alien guards, who were flanking a single cell. The door was made from what seemed to be solid steel, as well as welded shut, with only a tiny window allowing anyone who came close enough to view inside.

One of the alien glanced at it somewhat nervously, asking in their language "Are you sure that the door will hold?"

"It has to. Lord Trogaar has demanded that the prisoner be delivered to the Citadel on schedule!" one of the guards flanking the door responded.

While that was enough to appease the first one, more smashing and shouting could be heard. This prompted the other guard to ask, "And what is it doesn't?"

"Then may Zorg help us," the other responded.

As in response, the male voice roared again, and this time the entire hallway shook, while the window in the cell door shattered. Through it, a pair of glowing eyes could be seen, one green and one blue, though the blue pair seemed dimmer than the green.

All four aliens tensed and moved away from the door, guessing what was about to happen. They were proven right when, with one last yell from the female, the door was completely blasted off its hinges and fell forward, kicking up a cloud of dust once it hit the floor. There was a moment of tense silence, and then the two prisoners stepped into the light.

The female was rather young, with long fiery-red hair that reached her waist and bright-orange skin. She wore an M-shaped face guard that covered her forehead and jaws, purple body armor with silver metal plates over it, and a silver pauldron around her neck. However, one thing that did not go with the outfit was the pair of white metal cylinders that covered the upper half of her arms, bolted in place and held together by a half-ring of dark grey metal.

The other one, the male, had the same skin tone, though his hair was an even deeper red, completely disheveled, and only reached the tip of his spine. He was a few inches taller than the girl, and with thick eyebrows that matched his hair. His outfit consisted of a dark blue body suit that covered his torso and legs but left his arms uncovered, a silver belt and boots, as well as similar pauldron on his neck. A pair of metal cylinders also bound his arms, in addition to a band of white metal that covered his eyes, which somewhat blocked the blue glow from them.

Both of them growled, with the girl saying "Zengtha rum aka! Kek zengtha ror!"

The other aliens didn't reply verbally, and instead pointing their spears at the duo. Despite not having seen the action, the male could guess what they did, and yelled "Rutha zorrgnarg!" before charging forward with his arms raised high.

Seeing as their opponent was blinded, the lizard-men chose to simply part before him and let him pass. However, their size caused them to release noticeable _thuds_ of their own when they backed away, which caused the male to stop. With a shout, he spun in a circle and, by pure luck, nailed one of them in the chest hard enough to send it flying into a wall.

The female was right behind him, and unlike him, she _could_ see where to hit. Thus, she was able to hit the second alien with an overhead blow strong enough to crush the skull of an ordinary human. For the lizard-fish-man, it only knocked him out, and he fell to floor like a puppet without strings.

One of the remaining aliens aimed his spear at the male and fired a blast of energy, catching him in the back. However, other than causing a fair amount of stinging and some smoke, the hit did nothing but make the redhead even angrier. Charging in the direction of the shot, he swung blindly again, but was blocked by the alien's spear.

That gave the female an opportunity to jump and kick the alien in the head, knocking him out as well. Then she turned and gave one more hit to the last alien, also sending it flying. Unfortunately, the last alien crashed right into a bright red control panel. And the instant after it touched the panels, flashing red lights and sirens began going off.

"Heska vo," the male snarled, with the female nodding in agreement.

The two of them pressed on, the female giving directions to her blinded comrade, until they were able to escape the ship by literally punching through its lower hole, exposing them to the vacuum of space. Unaffected by it, they jumped through and began flying through space, heading for the nearest planet they could find.

* * *

On the planet Earth, in one particular city, a mugger dressed in black and gray was rushing to avoid the cops, having just successfully pulled off another bank robbery. He quickly turned and bolted down an alleyway, hoping to lose the squad cars chasing after him. Somehow, they didn't see him, and rushed past.

The robber grinned and held up his bag of stolen money. Another job well done. He began walking down the alleyway when a shadow suddenly passed over him. "Huh?" he said, looking up and around. But the shadow was gone as soon as it had appeared, leaving him thoroughly spooked.

He drew his crowbar for protection, but then a red projectile whistled through the air and hit the weapon, knocking it out of his hand. Starting to freak out, he yelled "Hey, whoever you are, I don't want any trouble! Okay?!"

He heard something land behind him, and a voice say, "If you can't pay the price, don't do the crime." He whirled around just in time to be caught with a flying kick to the chest, sending him back. The criminal quickly recovered and charged at his attacker, letting loose a series of blows there were all either blocked or deflected.

Then the attacker responded with a rising knee to stomach and then a spinning kick to the head, making the robber see stars. He was completely unable to counterattack, and that let his assailant grab him and throw him into the wall hard enough to send him to ground.

The robber groaned and looked up, trying to see who had whooped his ass. Once he was able to see, his eyes went huge. It was a teenager, only five feet and four inches in height, with slicked back hair and a domino mask. He had on green tights with black steel-toed boots, green elbow-length gloves, a red vest with a yellow letter "R" over the left pectoral, a yellow utility belt and black cape with a yellow interior.

The crook stared. "What the hell?! This ain't your town! Aren't you supposed to be-?" he began, before the teen interrupted him.

"Just moved here. And from now on, I work alone," he stated. Before either of them could say anything else, however, they were interrupted by the arrival of a pair of glowing comets, blue and green, which flew overhead before finally crashing several blocks away, creating a large explosion on impact.

Seeing that, Robin was quick to bind the thug in front of him up and call in to have the police come to pick him up, before rushing off.

The comets had landed in front of the local pizza restaurant, kicking up a large cloud of smoke and leaving a circular crater in the ground. Slowly, the smoke faded, revealing that the comets had not been made of rock, ice or something similar, but was actually a pair of people.

It was the same young woman and man from before, the ones that escaped the alien ship. The male tried looking around, and grimaced. The metal band was still blinding him, and with his hands restrained, he couldn't just rip it off. The girl jumped down from the edge of the crater and looked around, scaring the people around her with how hostile her stance and expression were. She opened her mouth and began talking, but none of them could understand her. "Slopforn ivortmat! Slopforn! Ond gudshik zerrole!" she yelled.

One of the witnesses had the bright idea of taking a picture of the girl, and the flash caused her to cry out in surprise and shut her eyes. Hearing that, the male shouted "Glubnorb!" before jumping down and landing next to the girl. When she opened her eyes again, she looked even more enraged than before, and roared before swinging her bound arms into the ground, crushing the asphalt and creating a shockwave that spread out in all directions.

The male copied her actions and also slammed his arms against the pavement, creating an even larger shockwave that nearly caused several people to fall over. That was enough to convince all of the civilians to start running away, screaming in fear as the two aliens went on a rampage.

She swung her arms into a taxi and nearly rent it in two, sending it flying. She did the same thing with a phone booth and caused sparks fly from the impact, while she turned and smash a concrete bench to pieces. The male hit the front end of a pickup truck hard enough that the rest of the vehicle rose into the air, before falling back down. Then he slammed his face against a parking meter, trying to dislodge the metal band over his eyes. His face and the band remained unaffected, but the pole of the meter snapped like a toothpick.

However, no matter how much destruction they caused, nothing destroyed their restraints, or even loosened them. The male kept moving around and hitting air, and the girl looked around, trying to find something that would work. Her eyes landed on the support pillar holding up the pizza place, and grinned.

"Kieroand'r!" she called, and the male stopped to look in her direction. She flew and slammed her arms against the pillar, causing it to bend and the floor above the groan. Then, guided over there by her instructions, the male began to do so as well, adding in a blow with his head from time to time.

"Zop! Yark! Mesner!" they yelled in unison, punctuating each shout with another hit to the pillar. The repeated blows caused the pillar to nearly collapse completely, but it still managed to hold together, if only just. While the whole thing had done no damage to their bindings whatsoever.

They were about to try again anyway when, suddenly, a familiar bird-shaped projectile flew forward, hitting the alien girl on the side of the head and causing her to stumble as it impacted the side of her face guard. The metal piece deflected it, causing it ricochet and hit the metal band over the male's eyes, making him take a step back in surprise.

The female looked over at where the projectile had come from, and saw Robin standing on top of a car. Leveling an even stare at the alien girl and taking a martial arts stance, he demanded "Who are you two?"

Not understanding the question, she chose to respond without words, by flying at him with her bound arms raised high. She swung at Robin only for him to dodge, and she nearly cleave the car he had been standing on in half. The male followed up the attack, swinging for the same spot and finishing tearing the car in two.

The girl kept trying to hit him over and over, with her comrade aiding whenever he could. Possessing the skills of a born acrobat, Robin was able to duck and weave through every potential hit, and even threw a pair of exploding disc at them while backflipping away. The aliens were caught were caught in the blast but were barely even fazed by it.

Seeing that this was getting nowhere, the girl shouted some instructions to the male before kicking a nearby car into the air. The male followed her instructions and kicked forward, hitting the car and sending it hurtling end over end at Robin. Eyes wide, he barely ducked under the flying vehicle and watched it sail past, hitting the side of a building and exploding.

Robin grunted. "They're a lot stronger than they look," he thought out loud. But his focus on the car gave her the opportunity to score a solid hit, sending Robin onto his back. The male ran forward and tried to crush him into paste, but he rolled away from the hit.

He pulled a metal cylinder, which extended into a full staff. He swung at the girl and managed to score hit hard enough to make her crash into yet _another_ car. "Koriand'r!" the male yelled, before roaring and attacking Robin like an enraged, blind bull. But not only was Robin able to side-step the attack, but he ever knocked the redhead to ground with another blow from his staff.

Unfortunately, after that hit, his staff literally crumbled apart in his hands, leaving him stunned and weaponless. ' _Just what is that guy's head made of, anyway?_ ' he thought. He didn't have the chance to think further on it, as the girl extracted herself from the car she was forced into.

Smirking at Robin, she titled her head to either side, eliciting several loud _pops_. "Zota," she said, somewhat impressed by what she had seen so far. She flew back at him and he tried to dodge, but his foot landed in one of the holes the alien male had made in their rampage earlier, and he fell onto his back again. She leaped into the air came down at him, ready to smash his head open.

But then her assault was stopped again, this time by a large ram, or all things. Said ram tackled into her hard enough to send her into a nearby building and create a cloud of dust. As if that hadn't been strange enough, there was the fact that the ram was _green_ , and then shaped-shifted into an equally green-skinned teenager, one who was ever shorter than Robin.

His outfit consisted of a purple jumpsuit with black sides covering his arms, shoulder and the bottom halves of his legs, with a gray circular belt and matching gloves. His shoes matched the color scheme, being purple with gray soles and black trim. And over the top half of his head was a gray mask that had black rings around his eyes, as well as overly large pointed ears.

The mask-wearing teen snapped a quick salute, shouting "Ex-Doom Patrol Member Beast Boy, at your service! How can I-" But then he stopped himself, noticing just who he was talking to. "Whoa! You're Robin, aren't you, sir?" he asked.

Robin resisted the urge to groan, and said "Yes, I am, and don't call me 'sir'."

However, the confirmation only caused Beast Boy to stare at him with stars in his eyes. "I knew it! I've heard a lot about you, and let me tell what an honor it is to-"

"Beast Boy?" Robin interrupted.

"Yes, sir?" the changeling said, completely forgotten Robin's previous request.

Choosing not to comment on it, Robin pointed to where the aliens they had been fighting was sent, and they looked. They had used the brief moment they heroes had been talking to regroup, and were now working together to, despite being unable to use their hands, lift a huge double-decker bus over their heads.

They then threw the bus at Robin and Beast Boy, and the boys dived to either side to avoid being flattened. One person was in the line of fire, however, but he chose not to try and avoid it. Instead, he caught the bus like it was nothing more than a tackling football player, causing him to slide back slightly before stopping, and he lowered the bus back to the ground.

Nothing could be discerned about the stranger's appearance, since he was wearing black sweatpants and a gray hoodie with the hood up. However, it was easy to see that that he was exceptionally tall and muscular, the lower face of his face showed a dark skin color, and one of his eyes appeared to be glowing red.

Once he had put the bus down, the newcomer yelled "Yo! Who's been messin' up my neighborhood?!"

Beast Boy was quick to point at the aliens. "They were already fighting when I got here, and I think those two started it!" he said.

The male and female began to slowly come closer, but then the male stopped. "Koriand'r," he said, and the girl stopped. He spoke several sentences to her in their language, while also gesturing at her restraints and his blindfold. After a moment, she nodded, and the two of them suddenly swung… at each other.

The bindings on their arms collided while the male also slammed his blindfold against them at the same time. The ground began shaking once more from the force of the impact, and the three boys stared at them. This time, however, their efforts finally yielded fruit. The end of the manacles fell away, freeing their hands even if the rest of their arms remained stuck together. And the man's shattered, revealing his glowing blue eyes.

Now with her hands useable, the girls aimed them at the boys and they began glowing green, while the glow from the male's eyes intensified.

The trio had just enough time to start running before the girl unleashed a salvo of bright green energy blasts, rattling them off like machine gun fire. The male, on the other hand, shot two continuous beams from his eyes.

They were quick to split up, Robin and the one in the hoodie moving around to flank the girl while Beast Boy ran straight forward. While the green energy bolts were greater in number, they were alos less accurate, enabling the heroes to avoid getting hit. The blue beams, on the other hand, were precise enough that they nearly struck Robin in chest and would have had he not managed to cartwheel away at them last second.

Still, the group's surroundings were incapable of dodging, and stray shots were sent in every direction as the aliens tried to blast them to pieces. They hit the ground, the sides of buildings, what few cars were left, everything.

The three boys had retreated behind the remains of the bus, panting from their continuous efforts to avoid being shot. "Those two are gonna wreck the entire city if they keep this up," the large teen stated.

Robin grunted. "I won't let them. I'm not losing this fight!" he said firmly. The other two nodded in agreement, and they ran out from behind the bus.

But no sooner had they made it just a few feet when a massive black wall of energy rose up in front of them. The barrier took the shape of a massive raven with its wings spread, one that released a very real caw.

Then they heard a voice behind them say "Maybe fighting isn't the way to solve this," and turned around. It was a girl, one who wore a long indigo cloak with a hood, held in place by a black and red jewel set in a gold plate. Although the cloak and hood obscured most of her other features, they could see that she had clear violet eyes and light gray skin. An opening in the cloak showed she was wearing a black long-sleeved leotard that left her legs exposed, wrists cuffs and ankle boots that matched her robe, and a black belt with the same type of jewel that held her cloak together.

Beyond her rather cryptic statement, the new girl didn't say anything and looked pointedly at the aliens, lowering her barrier. The others looked too and saw that the alien girl had fallen to her knees, panting heavily. The male was still on his feet, but it seemed as if even a small breeze would send him down as well.

Robin stared at the sight for a moment, before saying "Everyone, stand down."

"What, you think you're the boss now?" the larger teen asked.

"Just give me a chance," the former sidekick said, before looking at the hooded girl. "Come with me," he added.

The girl raised an eyebrow, but decided to comply and started walking closer with him. Once they were close enough, the alien female managed to rise to her feet and point her hands at Robin, while the male growled and the glow from his eyes increased again.

"Easy there. My name is Robin. I don't want to harm you," he told her, slowly reaching for his utility belt. She growled at him, but then he held up a pair of lock-pick for the duo to see.

They looked at the devices, and then at Robin and the hooded girl's calm expressions. After a few seconds of tense silence, they lowered her arms and the glow from their hands faded, as well as from their eyes.

The girl's was a vibrant shade of green, with her sclera being of a lighter green color, contrasting well with her orange skin and auburn hair. The male's was much the same, except they were cobalt blue.

Robin quickly handed one of the lock picks to the hooded girl, before undoing the restraints on the female alien's arms. The sorceress looked at the lock pick, then at the male redhead, before sighing and helping. In less than a minute, they had accomplished what the duo had been wrecking half the city trying to do, and removed the shackles from their arms.

The restraints fell to the ground and the girl rubbed her arms where they had been, sighing in relief. "There. Maybe now we can-" Robin began, but was stopped in a very direct way.

The alien girl reached forward and grabbed him by the front of his vest, before pulling him forward and kissing right straight on the lips. Robin's eyes went huge behind his mask, not even having the slightest idea why she was doing this.

The others stared, but then the hooded girl felt a pair of hands grasp her shoulders, and she looked forward at the male alien. Before she could stop him, he placed his lips over her own, kissing right in the middle of the street.

Her eyes also went wide, and she could _feel_ her face heat up, while a fine dusting of red became noticeable on her cheeks despite her gray skin color.

After several seconds, the girl released Robin from the kiss… and then shoved him hard enough that he fell on his ass. The male also released the sorceress but didn't push her. Rather than wonder why, she focused on the fact that, when they spoke up, it was now in English.

"If you do not wish to be destroyed, you will leave me alone!" the girl warned before shooting into the air and flying off.

"Do _not_ attempt to follow us!" the male added, also flying away.

That left the four remaining teens to stand there, thoroughly shocked at what had just happened. Eventually, the silence was broken.

"So… I'm Beast Boy. Who are you?" the mask-wearing boy asked.

No one answered him, simply staring into the sky in silence. Eventually, the teen wearing the jacket said "I gotta say, those two sure know how to make an impression."

"I'd say we were the ones to make an impression," Beast Boy pointed out, grinning. "The scary people from space are gone, the city is saved, everything's 'mission accomplished'. Isn't that right, sir?" he asked, looking at Robin.

Robin responded "I'm serious. Quit calling me that." While Beast Boy gave him a nod and a sharp salute, he turned around and started walking. "Looks like this is done. Thanks for the help."

The girl in the cloak, having finally managed to get rid of her flaming blush, asked "You're going to go after them?"

"Yes, I am. I have to make sure they're not still a threat," Robin stated.

"Hey! I want to go too!" Beast Boy said, running after him.

But Robin stopped him in his tracks, saying "Sorry, but I just decided to go solo recently. I'm not really interested in making a team."

Beast Boy wilted at that, muttering "Need a sidekick…?" But Robin either ignored him and or didn't hear him, and kept walking.

The other two were also quick to walk off, before Beast Boy even had the chance to ask them if they wanted pizza. Deciding to follow the larger one, he said "Just you and me, huh? That's cool! I haven't really had anyone to spend time with since I quit Doom Patrol, so this is gonna be fun. You want to play some video games?"

But then the teen stopped and Beast Boy walked right into him, creating a thud that sounded rather… metallic. The gray-clad man turned around and lowered his hood, revealing that the left side of his face and neck, the left side of and right part of his head and his chin were all replaced by light blue, dark blue and gray mechanical parts.

"There! Take a good, long look! I had an accident, and now I'm a monster, alright? A _cyborg_!" he yelled.

Bur rather than be horrified or intimidated, the sight did nothing but awe the green-skinned changeling. "A cyborg? _Cool_! You're the next generation's Robot Man!" he said.

The gray-wearing cyborg stared at him, with a neutral expression. "You're one weird little dude. You know that, right?" he stated.

Beast Boy chuckled. "You called me 'dude'. Hehe." That caused him to roll his remaining eye and resume walking away. "So… see you later? Right, dude? Dude?" But he still didn't get any response. A moment later, his ears twitched as he picked up a low humming, and the area around him turned darker. Looking up, he saw that it was because of a massive spaceship. "DUDE!"

The cyborg looked up as well, as stared at the ship as it flew overhead. It passed over the buildings and continue on to the small island in the middle of the bay. Once over it, the ship released a large orange object shaped like a torch, which slammed into the island and kicked up a large cloud of dust.

Cyborg frowned. "Looks like our space people came with some friends," he said.

"Or enemies," Robin added, joining them.

The torch-like object released a blast of blue electricity skywards, which then resolved into a hologram of another alien. This one was similar to the lizard-fish-men that had been on the spaceship, though the one they saw now seemed to be the leader.

" **People of Earth** ," the lizard-fish-man began, " **We have come to this planet hunting a pair escaped prisoners. Very dangerous prisoners, at that. Do not attempt to interfere with our search, and we will leave this city intact. But if you attempt to assist them, we will make sure that your destruction is absolute**."

And with that, the hologram faded away. A set of doors on the side of the torch opened, allowing dozens of other aliens similar to the one that had spoken to fly out, racing towards the city.

"They told us not to interfere," the girl in the cloak said, having joined them during the speech.

Robin didn't say anything to response, prompting Cyborg to look at him. "You're still going to go after them, aren't you?"

Robin nodded, and Beast Boy saw his chance. "Oooh! Can I come?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence… and then the Boy Wonder smiled. "I suppose I can team up. Just this once," he said, causing the rest of them to smile.

They began to head out, but the cloaked girl stayed behind, a dismayed expression on her face. Beast Boy noticed that she wasn't coming, and asked "Are you still with us?"

Looking up at him, she said "I… I'm not the hero type." She turned away. "Trust me. If you knew what I am, you wouldn't want me around," she told them.

Robin and walked and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look back at him. "You were willing to put yourself in the middle of a fight to avoid conflict. That tells me enough." He gave her a reassuring smile, and behind her, the other teens did the same.

* * *

As the search for the alien duo continued, the aliens that were searching for them seemed to be making no progress. They tore the roofs off cars, blew up cars, destroyed anything they encountered with energy blasts from the ends of their spears… All in all, it was clear that they were much more interested in finding their target than keeping the damage to a minimum like their leader said they would.

As they moved on, the group of four teens emerged from a nearby alleyway. Robin whispered "Alright, we need to think of some way to track-"

"They're nearby," the girl in the cloak interjected, causing the others to look at her in confusion. She lowered her head in embarrassment. "I'm an empath. I can sense things."

"I've got a sonic analyzer built into my arm. If those two are around, I'll be able to hear it," Cyborg said, pulling back his sleeve to show that his arm was indeed also mechanical.

"And I'll see if I can pick up their scent!" Beast Boy said, before changing into a green bloodhound and sniffing around on the ground. After a few moments of waiting, he barked and suddenly took off, while the sonic analyzer also started showing a heartbeat.

Following Beast Boy, Cyborg and the hooded girl's lead, the five of them quickly made their way to a video rental store, one that had a large hole burnt into the side of it. Inside, they could see a familiar pair of aliens grabbing food items left and right before scarfing them down. They ate with such speed that she didn't even bother to remove the wrappers from anything, and what didn't go into their mouths was sent through the air until it landed on the floor.

The male swallowed whatever he was eating and looked over at the female. "Sister, we must try these 'hot dogs'. If you coat them with this 'straw-berry' syrup and 'naw-choe cheese', they're truly marvelous!" he said, grinning.

The girl paused in her eating to look over the concoction, before nodding. "Very well. But only if you try these 'chawk-o-late' eggs and 'bar-B-cue chips'," she said, holding out a both of both items.

He nodded and the two of them traded food items, before scarfing them down, again without removing the wrappers. Both aliens hummed in satisfaction at the taste, before switching places so that she could go through the meat-related foods while her brother raided the candy section.

In shock at the sheer speed at which the girl was eating, Beast Boy hesitantly said "Um… You know, those would taste better if you took them out of the wrappers."

That alerted the two to their presence, and they turned around. "Hraagh!" the boy snarled, creating another orb of blue energy in each hand. His sister did the same, though hers were green.

The quartet backed away, not interested in starting another fight. "Easy. It's alright. We're your friends, remember?" Robin said gently.

That didn't affect them in the slightest, and the girl asked "Friends? Why? Why did you free us?"

"We were just trying to be, you know, nice," Beast Boy said nervously.

"'Nice'?" the male alien repeated, his brow creasing as her tried to understand the meaning of the word. "This word does not exist on our planet. The closest word is _rutha_ , 'weak'," he said, before moving into a fighting stance. "And we do not tolerate the weak."

At that, Cyborg was able to momentarily overcome his fear, and shot back "Well, on this planet, 'nice' means 'nice'. And if you want us to keep being nice, you'll tell us why the lizard-fish took you prisoner."

They blinked at that, and the glow slowly faded from their hands and eyes. "Not prisoner. We am… prize," she said, garnering a fair amount of surprise from all four of them. She continued "They are Gordanians, and they wish to deliver us to the Citadel. To live as their servants."

"And the Citadel is…?" the girl in the cloak said, trailing off.

The male snorted. "Strong, brutish, stupid…" he said, trying to think of the correct English word. "Villains," he eventually stated.

Robin stepped closer. "Then you're not going with them. Not if I have anything to say about it," he declared.

However, no sooner had he said that then one of the walls of the building exploded, sending them all to the ground. Once the smoke cleared, they saw who was responsible. It was over a dozen of the lizard-fish-men, who zeroed their gazes on the alien girl once they saw that she was there. "Seize them!" one of them called, and they charged.

The six teens got back up and met their charge. Cyborg nailed one with a double axe-handle, made all the more powerful by the fact that his limbs were metal instead of flesh. Beast Boy changed into a rhinoceros and nearly gored one with his tusk, while sending several others hurtling in separate directions. The alien girl hit one of them with an uppercut that caused its head to go through the ceiling, before she threw more energy bolts at the others.

Robin drew another extendable staff from his belt used stood back-to-back with the male alien, both of them hitting any Gordanians that came close hard enough to knock them out. And Raven coated her hands in the same black aura as before, using that to send any that neared her flying.

Eventually, one of them managed to keep a lucky hit on the girl with its spear, shooting an energy blast that sent her through _another_ section of the store, and out into the open street. Three more came after her, and she was able to dispatch two of them with her energy blasts. But the third one flew close enough that she could no longer try that, and so she tried to knock it out with a right hook.

Only for it to dodge the attack and slam its spear into her back. She shot down and crashed against the street hard enough to leave a spider-web of cracks, and the Gordanian landed on top of her. It pointed its spear and was able to unleash a blast at point-blank range… when the male crashed into it from the side, yelling "Keep your scaled hands away from my sister!"

The Gordanian grunted and tried to hold his ground, but that gave Robin enough time to throw the one he was fighting into it, downing them both. The mask-wearing teen and the two aliens smiled at each other, before rejoining the fight and working side by side.

After that, the fight quickly moved outside, with no side showing any signs of giving up. Cyborg grappled with one of them, trying to overcome it with sheer strength, until it tripped him by pulling his ankle with its tail. He rolled to the side to avoid getting shot in the face, and flipped onto his feet. But more blasts kept coming, hitting him all over and generating a smokescreen.

When the smoke faded, his jacket and pants were virtually gone, showing off all of his cybernetics in their full form. Cyborg shouted in anger and swung at the Gordanian that had tripped him. It raised its spear to block it, but he punched hard enough to not only break the spear in half, but to send its owner into several of its comrades.

More shots kept peppering him until Beast Boy, in the form of a pterodactyl, grabbed him by the shoulders and carried him out of the line of fire. When they tried to give chase, the male alien shot them out of the skies with a series of blue eye-beams. Then the cloaked girl used her powers to cover a nearby streetlight in dark energy, before using it as an improvised bat to knock them into the dirt.

It finally dawned on the Gordanians that, even though they had greater numbers, they still had no chance of winning, and some flew away in retreat. The rest followed their allies' example, and fled.

Once they were all gone, silence reigned once more, the fight finished. The two redheads looked at the rest of them. "I believe your expression is… thanks," the girl said, and her brother nodded in agreement.

Cyborg nodded back, before looking down at the remains of his outfit. "Aw, man! My suit," he groaned.

"So what? I think you look cooler without it," Beast Boy remarked, giving him a thumbs-up.

The male alien raised an eyebrow. "Says the green-skinned shapeshifter in a silly mask," he said.

Beast Boy looked at him in shocked dismay. "Silly? But… But my mask is cool! Right?" he said, looking at Cyborg and the cloaked girl. When they both shook their heads, he lowered his head. "But then what about my secret identity?"

"What secret identity? You're green," the sorceress pointed out.

Beast Boy was silent for a moment, processing what she had just said. He tried to come up with some sort of counter, opening his mouth. But then he stopped, realizing that she was right. With a sigh, he pulled off his mask, revealing that his hair was spiky and just as green as the rest of him, while his ears were smaller than the mask indicated, though still pointed.

"This is not over. Now, Trogaar will strike even harder. It is only a matter of-" the alien girl started, before she was cut off by another talking hologram that appeared.

" **Fools**!" the alien, who they assumed to be Trogaar, yelled. " **The Earth scum were warned. You have aided our prisoners, and such insolence must be punished. Your city will be destroyed!** "

Then the hologram faded away again, and the Gordanian ship pointed its main gun at the city, which began charging up. As it did, the civilians throughout the city started to panic, scurrying around like frightened ants beneath a magnifying glass

"Great," the cloaked magic-caster said, looking up at the ship.

Beast Boy grabbed the hair on either side of his head. "So… after trashing both a pizza place and a perfectly innocent video store, now we've made an evil space lizard angry enough to vaporize our entire city?!" he said.

"Go team," Cyborg said flatly.

The alien girl glared at Robin. "The fault is all yours! I commanded that you leave me alone, but you insisted on getting apology and being 'nice'!" she said angrily.

"Indeed. And I warned you not to follow us, but you did anyway!" the male alien stated.

" _My_ fault?" Robin replied. "You blast me, you kiss me, but you never once decided to mention that they have a giant particle weapon!?"

Deciding to let Robin handle that issue, the hooded girl looked at the male alien. "Why _did_ you kiss me, anyway?" she asked, managing just barely to keep her tone and expression neutral when she said that out loud.

He shrugged. "My people are able to assimilate the languages of other beings through oral contact. I needed to speak your language, so I did the 'kiss' to learn it," he said frankly, before frowning. "Although, after doing the 'kiss' with you, I think I assimilated a total of seven languages instead of one. Are you a polyglot?"

She looked somewhat embarrassed at that, and looked away. "Actually, yes, I am. I can speak English, German, Romanian, Sanskrit, Ancient Sumerian, Latin and Azaranian," she admitted.

He nodded, saying "I see. Very impressive," and managing to embarrass her even further.

Beast Boy groaned. "We're all so doomed! I can't believe I let you talk me into this!" he said, looking over at Cyborg.

"Say what?! I was ready to walk, but then you started following me!" the partly-mechanical teen shot back. As the four of them continued arguing, the male alien pinched the bridge of his nose. The arguing grew louder, and he was just about to yell at the all to shut up.

The cloaked mage beat him to it, however, shouting "QUIET!" They did just that, and looked over at her. Feeling all of the gazes at once, she nervously waved her hand. "Hi," she said.

The male alien sighed. "Look, _how_ we fell into this mess is not a relevant. What matters now is that we stop it from getting worse," he told them.

"He's right. We're in this together, and that's how we'll get out of it. Together," Robin said. One by one, the others smiled and nodded. "Alright. Now, let's go save this city."

* * *

Inside the Gordanian ship, the atomization beam hummed as it continued charging up until it had enough power to destroy Jump City in one blast. A group of the aliens passed by the beam as they rushed to report to their lord, passing by an empty hallway. The moment they did pass it, though, an orb of pitch-black energy rose out of the floor.

That orb that dissipated to reveal the group of six heroes, with Raven at the front. Beast Boy shivered and said "Dude, that dark energy stuff gives me the-" But then he stopped when he noticed Raven staring at him, a flicker of annoyance visible in her eyes. "I mean, uh, it's cool!" he quickly said.

Robin looked around the corner to make sure that the coast was clear. Once he was sure it was, he said "We have to get to the firing controls. Let's keep moving."

They began moving quietly towards the next room, but the mage once again stayed behind. She didn't get the chance to do that for long, as Cyborg asked, "Mind telling me why you're always alone?"

She looked up to see him standing in front of her, and she diverted her gaze elsewhere. "It's like the kid said. I don't exactly fit in," she said.

Cyborg placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's green, I'm mostly made of metal, and those two are from outer space. Trust me, you fit in just fine." That said, he used the hand on her shoulder to gently push her forward, and she let him.

Robin had taken point, and was looking around to make sure that they didn't run into any opposition. As they kept going, the two redheads approached him, getting him attention. Despite looking like he had just swallowed a lemon, the male said, "We—both of us—bring you… apology."

"Don't fuss over it. I'm sorry I yelled," Robin told them.

The girl smiled. "You are… nice. On our world, only our k'norfka showed us such kindness," she told him.

Robin smiled. "Well, things are different here," he said. The two of them stared at each other, and a faint dusting of pink appeared on the young woman's cheeks. Her brother narrowed his eyes at the sight, and he had to resist the sudden urge to step between them.

The tender moment was soon broken, and by Beast Boy saying "Uh, guys? I think they found us!" and pointing ahead.

True enough, a group of more Gordanians had appeared in front of them, with more approaching from behind. The male grunted and called forth another pair of starbolts. "Well, then let us start the party!" he called, and flew forward.

* * *

On the main deck of the ship, a monitor showed the atomization beam reach its full power. One of the Gordanians turned around in its chair, saying "Lord Trogaar. We are ready to fire at your command."

Above them, a large thronelike chair swiveled around, showing the Gordanian who had been on the projections. "Then begin the firing countdown," Trogaar ordered. They did just that, and a timer in their language appeared on the monitor. He smirked. "The scum of Earth shall learn that it takes more than six delinquent heroes to defy me!"

The weapon glowed as it prepared to fire, but just before it could, the door behind Trogaar exploded, and all the Gordanians turned to see what caused it. Standing there was Robin, with Beast Boy and Cyborg on either side of him, the two aliens hovering in the air and flanking them, while Raven floated above and behind them.

"We're not six heroes. We're one team," Robin declared.

Trogaar growled in rage and his minions ran towards the heroes. The heroes ran as well, Robin jumping into the air and delivering a flying kick to the fact of one of them. Cyborg slammed his fists into the floor hard enough to create a shockwave, one that sent two more onto their backs. Beast Boy transformed into a kangaroo and kicked another two in the gut with his full strength. And the female redhead hit one with an uppercut so hard she nearly made its head touch its feet.

The male blocked one of the Gordanians when it tried to stab him with its spear, and he responded with a kick that sent it skidding back. As it did, he snatched the spear from its hands and lifted it up. "Hmm. Not my usual weapon, but I will try it," he said. He aimed and tried to channel a starbolt through the spear. To his own surprise, it worked, and it sent the energy blast into the face of another Gordanian.

Beast Boy used the ability granted to him by his animal forms to avoid being hit several times, However, he failed to notice Trogaar coming in from behind. The massive alien hit him with a backhand hard enough to make him crash into a wall and fall to the ground, unmoving. He charged forward to deal the finishing blow, but then the Raven rose out of the ground in front of him and created a barrier.

Trogaar growled and smashed his fists against the barrier. The girl tried to maintain it, but eventually it gave out, and she fell down next to Beast Boy. Trogaar grinned as he prepared to end them, but then he was interrupted a second time, this time by energy shot to the back.

Turning around, he saw that the male redhead was the one who did it, and he ducked to avoid another shot that would have hit him in the face.

"Insignificant brat!" he yelled and ran at the teen. He stood his ground and tried to stab Trogaar with the spear while also shooting an eye-beam. The spear failed to pierce the enemy's scales, but the eye-beam did make him howl in pain before stumbling back.

"You must be a little more creative than that, fish-man!" he taunted, before shooting another starbolt from the spear and hitting Trogaar's left shoulder.

The alien roared and was about to try again anyway, but then Robin came in from the side and delivering a strong left jab, followed up by an equally strong spin kick. Trogaar landed harshly on the ground and tried to regain his bearings. When Robin came in for another round of hits, he was caught by a massive hand wrapping around his midsection, before throwing him into the wall harder than even Beast Boy had been hit.

The female redhead gasped and called "Robin!" Feeling herself filled with renewed rage, she punched the minion she was fighting hard enough to knock it out cold, and flew at Trogaar. She threw as many starbolts as she could at him, kicking up yet another smokescreen. Trogaar jumped through that smokescreen and tackled her to the ground. She struggled to break free and succeeded, just as Cyborg finished off the minion who had attacked him.

Working together, the two teens dealt a devastating series of blows to the alien lord, their enhanced strength gradually wearing him down. But Trogaar wouldn't go down like that, and he dealt back those same blows with interest, sending them back until they landed on either side of Robin. When Cyborg landed, the armor plating on his right arm shifted around, briefly exposing the circuitry underneath.

Robin saw this and got an idea. "Your arm. Can you reconfigure it into another form, like a weapon?"

Cyborg glanced down at his arm. "I can't make any promises, but I can try," he said.

Looking up, they saw that they had been surrounded, and Trogarr smirked down at them in victory. But then they heard the mage speak up, and looked over to see her standing next to the male redhead, who was reluctantly carrying Beast Boy on his back. "Get away from my friends," she said, her eyes beginning to glow white as dark energy surrounded her. "Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

The energy around her exploded outwards, leaving her allies unharmed but dealing massive damage to Trogaar and his minions. The blast also blew a hole in the roof of the command deck and destroyed the ship's controls, causing the particle beam to shut down. The loss of controls also caused the entire ship to begin descending until it crashed into the bay.

After the crash, the six heroes slowly rose to their feet, looking around at the defeated Gordanians. At least, until Trogaar managed to stand back up, looking at Raven with unbridled fury. It came closer and she wasn't able to conjure another barrier, that last move having drained what was left of her reserves.

The male handed Beast Boy off to her and stood in the way, holding up his stolen spear. The claws on the end of Trogaar's fingers grew to the size of daggers, and he raised his hand to tear the teen to shreds. Just as he swung downwards, a ringed beam of bright blue and white appeared behind the alien lord, hitting him in the center of his back.

Trogaar managed to release a single cry of pain before falling forward, down for the count once and for all. Behind him, Cyborg's right arm had been changed into some sort of cannon, which was smoking slightly from that last hit. "Alright, I'm only going to say this once," he declared, before smiling. "Boo-yah!"

* * *

Later on, the remaining Gordanians had taken their few working ships and managed to escape, leaving behind the torch-projector-thing and their destroyed warship. All six of the teens, minus the two redheads, were standing at the edge of the small island where the projector was, watching as the sun slowly rose over the horizon.

The cloaked girl lowered her hood, showing that she had short hair that was the same purple color as her eyes, as well as a red jewel in the center of her forehead. "That's quite a view," she said.

Cyborg nodded, crossing his arms. "Someone ought to build a house out here."

"Yeah. If you like sunshine and the beach," Beast Boy said, lightly elbowing Raven.

She smiled ever so slightly at him, saying "You know, you're kind of funny."

That proved to be the wrong thing to say, as the changeling eyes grew sparkles just like when he had first met Robin, and his head grew out of proportion. "You think I'm funny? Oh, duuuude! Do I know some jokes!" he said, causing the girl to lean back nervously.

As the four of them talked amongst each other, and Robin simply stood off to the side, the alien siblings slowly approached from behind. "Please. I look… nice?" the girl asked hesitantly. They looked back and saw that she had changed her outfit, with it now consisting a purple crop top that showed her stomach, a miniskirt and thigh-high boots of the same color, as well as a silver neck collar, silver gauntlets with green gems in them, and a silver band on her right arm. Her forehead protector was also gone, showing that she had short eyebrows that brought attention to her eyes.

Her brother's appearance was mostly unchanged, save for a pair of his own gauntlets with blue gems, and a pair of armor pads on his shoulders.

Robin stepped towards them, saying "We still don't know your names."

Walking towards them, she said "In your language, it would be 'Star Fire'."

Cyborg smiled. "Welcome to Planet Earth, Starfire," he said, before looking at her brother. "And you?"

He hesitated for a moment, glancing over at his sister, But when he saw that she was fine, he sighed. "My birth name is Kieroand'r, or Kiero," he said, pronouncing 'Kee-air-oh'. "But in this language, I guess it would be 'Nova Fire'. I do not know your names either."

"You know, you're right. The name's Victor, but you can call me Vic," Cyborg said, holding his hand out.

He shook it, noting that Victor had a strong grip to go with the fact he was mostly metal. Novafire approved.

"Nice to meet you, Kachu. I'm Beast Boy, but you already knew that!" Beast Boy said, shaking his hand excitedly.

Novafire smiled and nodded, before looking over at the girl in the cloak. "And what's your name?" he asked, smiling.

Seeing the smile and sensing the sincerity behind it, the girl looked away with the faintest blush. "It's Raven," she said.

"Raven, like the bird. I like that," he said, unintentionally causing her blush to grow.

Starfire smiled. "I thank you all for your help and your bravery. And I would like to have permission to stay here, where the people are strange, but also kind," she said. She and Robin looked at each other for moment, before looking away with blushes on their cheeks.

Again, Novafire saw this, and his gaze narrowed. ' _This is something I will need to keep an eyeball on_ ,' he mentally noted.

"You don't need our permission for that," Raven said warmly.

"But if you want our friendship, you got it," Robin added.

Cyborg said, "Guess we could all use some friends," and Beast Boy nodded.

The six of them gathered into a circle, and Robin reached for his belt. "I thought we might want to stay in touch, so Cyborg and I made these." He held out his hands, showing four communicators, each of these circular and colored black and yellow with a red button on the side.

They each took one, and Cyborg added "Made them with my own circuits."

"If there's ever any trouble, you know who to call," Robin declared. The six of them looked out towards the sunrise, feeling a sense of hope fill them. They could feel it. This was the beginning of something beautiful, something great. The beginning of a true friendship.

* * *

 **And that's this plot bunny. In addition to the reasons stated above, there was another reason I wrote this. As I read through a good deal of Titans fanficions, I realized that there were no (almost) no fics out there with an OC who was a Tamaranean. So, I thought to myself 'What if** _ **I**_ **decided to give it a shot?'. And this is what came of that.**

 **In any case, please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you wish his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)**


	10. Drifters: A New War in a New World

**And here we are again. My mind has been really active as of late with regards to new ideas for fics... but unfortunately, none of that energy has generated anything new for my ongoing ones. So, as usual, I'm putting that energy to use, in whatever form it arrives as, and posting theme here. Hence the triple update. Enjoy!**

* * *

Summary: Boudicca, queen of the Celtic Iceni Tribe, lead a revolt against the Roman Emperor Nero in 60 AD. Unfortunately, her efforts ended in familiar, and she died shortly afterwards... or so history says. Now we say what really happened to her, as she fights yet again in a land beyond her imagination.

* * *

Drifters: A New War in a New World

Chapter 1: The End of a Revolt

 **Britain, somewhere between present-day London and Wroxeter, 60 AD**

The anticipation of a battle never ceased to thrill her.

To know that, very soon, you would be charging forward towards your enemies, weapon in hand. The two sides would meet metal clanging and battle cries ringing as you dealt death to each other. And whoever stood victorious would be the one to decide how history remembered that day, while the losing side would be bereft of that choice. It was exhilarating. Her tribe had no strangers to violence, and their cause in this fight was just. Today, they fought for their honor, for their vengeance.

For their freedom.

Looking back at her troops, the woman saw that they were just as eager as she. Spears and shields glinted in the sunlight, axe and daggers were freshly sharpened, leather armor cleaned and ready. They didn't have as many weapons as they used to, having been disarmed before the rebellion began. But they had enough, as well as far greater numbers.

The woman herself was unusually tall in stature, with pale skin and piercing brown eyes. She wore a dark blue tunic with black pants, over which was a mantle held in place by a silver brooch. The hood of the mantle was not up, enabling her long, tawny-colored hair to reach her waist. Around her neck was a gold necklace, attached to her back was her own spear, and hanging from her waist was a sword made of iron.

This woman was known as Boudicca, widow of King Prasutagus and queen of the Celtic Iceni tribe.

This battle was the latest in several conflicts between her forces and that of the Roman Empire. When her husband passed away, he wrote in his will for the kingdom to be jointly ruled by Rome and their two daughters. However, the Empire refused to acknowledge her children as rulers due to being women, and forcibly annexed the kingdom, just like their had done for much of Britannia.

To add grievous insult to injury, the three of them were captured during the takeover. Her daughters had been raped by the Roman soldiers, while she herself had been stripped and publicly flogged. If the conquest of her own home hadn't been enough, this was enough for Boudicca.

While the local Roman governor was off on the island of Angelsey, she led her tribe and several others in revolt. They completely destroyed Cauldunum, a settlement for discharged Roman soldiers and the site for a temple to the former Emperor Claudius. They then continued on and did the same to Londinium, Verulamium, and the entire 9th Roman Legion, Hispana. In total, almost eighty-thousand people had fallen to Boudicca and her army of rebels.

Now, governor Suetonius had managed to regather his forces, and were waiting for them. As much as she hated to admit it, the governor had chosen the spot for the battle wisely. The Romans were in that gorge with a forest behind them, opening out into a wide plain. The gorge prevented the Celts from flanking them, while the forest would severely hamper any attacks from behind, and the plain made it impossible to ambush them.

But Boudicca would not give up just because the enemy had the advantage. This rebellion had been an uphill battle from the start, and now, if they were able to kill Suetonius, they could end it once and for all.

Deciding that now was as good a time as any to give her speech, she drew her spear and held it high. "We all know why we are here. Emperor Nero and his soldiers have taken our land, declaring it their own and feeding off of it like the parasite they are. You all know who I am. Some of you see me as your queen, while others simply see me as their commander. And indeed, it from a royal blood that I do descend."

"But!" she said, grabbing their attention. "It is not as woman descended from nobles that I fight as today. Today, I fight as one of the people, avenging my lost freedom, my scourged body, and the chastity of my children. The Romans have allowed the lust to go so far that not our land, our age, our virginity or even our land has been left unpolluted. The gods side not with these mongrels, but with those who seek righteous revenge!"

She pointed behind her with her spear, towards the other end of the field. "An entire legion tried to stop us and failed. The rest now hide away in their camp, ready to flee if not for their governor keeping them in place. We are thousands strong! They will not pause our charge, soften our blows, or quiet our cries. In war, you must conquer or you must die. I choose to conquer and to live! Tell me, which will you do? Will you die, or will you have freedom?!" she called.

"FREEDOM!" the rest of the soldiers roared, cheering and banging whatever weapons they had against their shields.

Boudicca smirked and nodded, before turning around. "Freedom it is, and death to Rome with it! Now, CHARGE!" she yelled, and ran forward. The rest of them were right behind her, a veritable tidal wave of flesh, armor and bloodlust.

Once their reached the gorge, the Romans were there, just as planned. Suetonius had placed his legionaries in tightly formation, with the auxiliaries only lightly and the cavalry placed to either side. As they drew close, the legionaries held up their javelins, and threw them once the Celts were close enough.

Blood flew in the air as the missiles pierced flesh and bone. If someone was unlucky enough to be pierced in a vital spot, they died quickly afterwards. Otherwise, they were forced to stop and either break off the head of the javelin or just yank the entire thing out before continuing their charge.

Entering the gorge caused them to become more densely packed then they had been in the field, and thus the javelins killed more people than expected. Still, neither the Celts or their leader faltered, and were upon the Roman soon enough.

Boudicca cackled as she swung her spear. The metal head of it rent their flesh apart, letting blood flow out like water. She stabbed one though the stomach and, using the strength granted by her size, picked the man up before flinging him into his comrades. More tried to attack her in response, but she sent her spear through the neck of one man. It went clean through and pierced the face of the one behind him, killing both.

She could feel her blood boiling as she killed. With every Roman life she ended, a sense of euphoria filled her, a kind of ecstasy that could only be obtained in the heat of war. The scars from her flogging seemed to burn as she moved, but she knew he pain was only imaginary. And even then, it only acted as a spice to accentuate her glee.

Eventually, the legionaries ran out of javelins, and moved forward in a wedge formation. While Boudicca was able to tear through the enemies before her, the rest were not as skilled. With better armor, better weapons and more discipline, the Romans began to push back the Celts. And that was when the cavalry joined in.

Atop their horses and wielding their lances, the Roman cavalry tore through the rebels just as easily, if not even easier, than the javelins. One of them managed to catch Boudicca with a long slash to the arm, but she responded by drawing her sword and stabbing the horse in its hindquarters. It whinnied and reared up in panic, causing the soldier to fall to the ground. She cut open his stomach and left him to bleed out, even she began to fall back with the rest of her forces.

Eventually, they were forced back out into the open field, where the cavalry had even more room to maneuver. Warrior after warrior was killed, and morale quickly began to plummet.

"Your Majesty, we're losing too many people! We need to retreat!" one of Boudicca's subordinates told her.

She released a legionary she had just killed, and whirled around. "Retreat? Have you gone mad?! If we lose here, Suetonius will walk all over us until the end of time!" she yelled.

Even as she said though, however, she could see that her warriors were starting to run anyway. Too many of them were dying without taking enough Romans with them. The cavalry was still slaying Celts left and right, and the ones making up the wedge formation kept moving.

Gritting her teeth in anger, she said "Dammit it all! Fine, retreat!" She sheathed her sword and joined the rest of them in running. However, once they came back to where they started, she realized a serious problem.

Before the battle, they had placed their wagon train in a crescent formation around the field's edge, so that their families could witness the battle. However, now that they were retreating, those wagons now served as a barrier, preventing them from getting away.

' _I need to give them time to get away_ ,' she thought, turning and re-drawing her sword. She leapt at the first legionary she saw and cut him down, before liberating another one of his arm and then his head. Another soldier leaped onto her from behind, and she caught a glimpse of a dagger out of the corner of her eye.

With a feral growl, she reached behind her and pulled the solider of her back. A quick snap of the neck and he was gone, and she threw his body at another that tried to killer her. But then a cavalryman struck and knocked her sword away, leaving her open. Before she could close her guard with her spear, he lunged off of his horse and stabbed her in the midsection.

"RAARGH!" Boudicca yelled, slamming the butt of her spear into the legionary's nose. She let go of his lance and staggered back. While he was dazed, she ripped the lance from her stomach and used it create a new hole in his head.

He fell, but now that she had been injured, more soldiers crowded around her like sharks. Using her spear and her stolen lance, she was able fight off anyone who came before her. But the ones that struck from behind or the sides were luckier, and managed to get a hit in every now and then. The number of wounds kept growing, and as they did so too did the rate at which she lost blood. And there more blood Boudicca lost, the harder it was for her to stop her enemies from getting another hit in.

She shouted and was able to finish off the last solider from the mob that surrounded her. But that was not the last solider at all. In fact, besides the ones that were already dead, most of the Romans were still alive. Meanwhile, her people were being massacred. Not just the other soldiers, but the now-fighters and children in the wagons, even the pack animals. All were being killed.

"No…," she muttered. She couldn't let this happen. She still hadn't killed Suetonius for everything he and the Empire he served had put her people through. Her people hadn't gotten their freedom back yet. They couldn't lose here!

She looked around for her sword and, finding it under the body of her comrades, she bent down to retrieve it. As she stood back upon, a wave of light-headedness hit her, and she stumbled backwards. ' _My wounds,_ ' she thought, looking down. She was covered with various lash or stab wounds, her armor was all but ruined, and the necklace she been wearing was long gone.

She took an unsteady step towards the wagon train, ready to help her subordinates get away. But walking was much harder than it had been before. It was like stones had been wrapped around her ankles. The muscles in her arms were also burning, even more than her scars.

But none of that mattered. She had to help her people. She needed to help them. She… She was… She…

She was so tired.

Where that thought came from, she had no idea, but once it was there it stuck. A simple nap sounded divine right now. A nap in her bed back home, her husband alive and well again, her daughters still pure and smiling at her as she drifted off…

Boudicca fell to the ground. Even the dirt and grass felt soft now. Soft enough for her to sleep. Yes. Sleeping is what she'd do…

"Next, please."

But sleep was not what awaited her.

* * *

 **And that ends this plot bunny. This one came after watching the anime Drifters, and has been stewing in my head for a while. Now it's published, and I can get back to my other fics. Hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku (I'm just kidding... or am I?)**


	11. Game of Thrones: The Storm Lion

**Author's Note: I do not own Game of Thrones or anything affiliated with it. The rights to it belong solely to their respective owners.**

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Summary: Typhon Baratheon, second son of Robert and Cersei, also known as the "Storm Lion". After the death of Jon Arryn, events will begin to unfold, and Typhon will not pass up the chance to play the game of thrones.

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The Eccentric Stag

Chapter 1: Arrival in Winterfell

During the past few weeks, Typhon Baratheon had come to realization. All his life, he had considered the South to be beautiful. The gardens of the Red Keep, the waters at Dragonstone, the cliffs upon which Casterly Rock stood. But now, standing here in the North, he had to admit that it had its own beauty as well.

The rolling hills, the clear skies-when it wasn't snowing or raining, that was—and the simple elegance of it put it right up there with everywhere else. And the air. Gods above, the cold, clean _air_. Having grown up in King's Landing, he had no idea how _bad_ it smelled until he breathed in a lungful here in the North.

His mother or older brother, on the other hand, seemed to despise the change in scenery. Both of them had spent almost the entire trip cooped up inside the royal carriage, coming out only when necessary. Tommen and Myrcella were in there too, though that was because they weren't old enough to ride yet. Typhon, meanwhile, had nearly jumped at the chance to ride alongside the rest of the column, if for no other reason so he didn't have to listen to Joffrey.

' _I swear, if I have to hear him complain about this trip one more time, I'm going to pull him out of that carriage and shove his face in the mud, Grandfather's lessons be damned_ ,' he thought. True enough, Lord Tywin had always drilled the values of patience and restraint into his grandson. But there was a limit to much that patience put up with before he got sick of it.

Sighing out loud, he reached up and ran a hand through his black hair, cut no more than a half-inch long. He kept his hair that short for no other reason than doing so made harder to get dirty and easier to clean. He had inherited the high cheekbones from his mother's side of the family, and his left eye was green to go with it. But from his father's side, he had inherited his hair color, a square jawline, massive frame and the blue that was his right eye. At that time, he was wearing a set of a set of padded black armor with the golden crowned stag of his House emblazoned over the heart.

Hearing a chuckle behind him, he looked around and saw his father, King Robert Baratheon, approaching from behind. Typhon pitied the poor horse that had to carry the King's massive weight. "Enjoying the view, son?" he asked.

Typhon nodded, looking ahead once more. "I am, Father. This is the first time I've seen the North, and I can see why your friend Lord Stark likes it so much," he replied.

Robert chuckled and ruffled his son's hair, completely disregarding the fact that he hated that. "That he does. Sometimes, when we were fighting the Targaryens, Ned wouldn't shut up about how much he wanted to return to Winterfell and its snow."

The prince raised an eyebrow. "And despite that, you want him to leave it and become Hand of the King?" is what he wanted to ask. However, he knew that saying such a thing out loud would be a step too far in terms of disrespect.

So, the fifteen-year-old said nothing, and just looked ahead. The reason they were traveling in the first place was because the previous Hand, Jon Arryn, had died from a sudden fever. Whatever had caused it, the fever killed Lord Arryn in a matter of days, leaving the position of Hand of the Kind vacant. Now his father wanted his oldest friend, Eddard Stark of Winterfell, to become the new Hand.

Although he didn't say it to anyone, Typhon found Lord Arryn's death to be a little _too_ sudden. The old man, while getting on in years, had been perfectly healthy up to this point. Something as simple as a fever should not have been able to kill him so quickly. Grand Maester Pycelle confirmed that the fever was what did him in, but his grandfather, Tywin, had always told him to accept nothing as pure truth. No matter who said it.

But now Jon's remains were already being taken back to the Vale, and they were heading to Winterfell. Any chance he may have had to confirm or deny his suspicions was gone now.

That was the exact moment when a thunderous crack filled the air, startling both father and son. They both looked behind them, towards the source of the noise, and Robert swore loudly and what he saw while Typhon merely groaned. Once of the wheels to the carriage had broken off _again_ , leaving it stuck in the mud. _'Seriously, this has to be the, what, fifth time this has happened? Who the hell even built the damn thing?_ ' he thought.

For a moment, the prince debated the time it would take to wait for some of their bannermen to replace the wheel on their own versus the energy required if he chose to help. Deciding that the in this, case, the former outweighed the latter, he dismounted his horse and moved to help.

The wheel was replaced soon after, a couple of the bannermen replacing the wheel while Typhon, the Hound and a few others kept that side of the carriage raised above the dirt. Once that was taken care of, they began moving again, this time with Joffrey having actually gotten on his horse.

* * *

A few hours later, the royal column approached Winterfell, letting Typhon obtain his first look at it as well. Much like the lands it ruled, the castle was of relatively simple design, more like a fortress than an actual castle. From a few of the towers, he could see a handful of banners, each one showing the gray direwolf that was the symbol of House Stark. But beyond that, there little decoration on the buildings, each one carved from dark grey stone.

As they came closer, they went through the town located just outside of Winterfell, which was rather fittingly called Winter Town. More than a few people stopped and stared at the royal procession, obviously noticing the Baratheon banners, Kingsguard, and carriage.

Typhon blinked while looking over them. There, sitting on top of one of the wagons, was a small girl. Her clothing was of too high quality for her to be a peasant, and she was wearing a guard helmet that was obviously meant for someone with a larger head. She was staring at them with unrestrained awe, taking in everything she could see with her gray eyes. Curious.

Finally, they entered the castle courtyard, where all the residents of Winterfell stood. At the front of them were the members of House Stark, standing in a line going from left to right. At the far right was a tall man with long dark hair and a graying beard. His eyes were the same shade of gray as the girl he saw before. ' _That must be Lord Eddard, Head of the House, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North_ ," he thought.

Next to Lord Stark was a rather beautiful woman with fair skin, long red hair and blue eyes. Her eyes possessed both kindness and inner strength, like warm fire surrounding a core of Valyrian steel. ' _Catelyn Stark, previously Catelyn Tully, Lady of Winterfell and Lord Stark's wife_.'

She was followed by a young man who appeared to be around Joffrey's age. The man had the same eyes as his mother, though his hair was not so vibrant a red. That said, his height and strong build spoke of his father. ' _Robb Stark, Lord Stark's firstborn son. And Lord of Winterfell, someday_.'

Fourth and fifth in line were two girls, though their appearances were as different as night and day. The first girl looked like a spitting image of her mother, or at least what Lady Stark might had looked like in years past. Her long red hair and blue eyes, as well as her general posture, created almost the perfect image a 'proper lady'.

The other girl, by contrast, had brown hair that only reached her neck, with skinny build and a much lower height. Her facial structure was also similar to Lord Stark's. She appeared both excited to see them and bored at having to wait. How she was able to display both expressions simultaneously baffled Typhon… Wait a minute.

' _She's the one who was one the wagon before. Which would make her Arya Stark, and the other girl Sansa Stark, Lord Stark's two daughters_ ,' he thought.

And finally, there were two other boys, both of them favoring their mother's appearance over their father's. ' _What were their names… Ah, Brandon and Rickon Stark. That's all of them_ ,' he thought.

Satisfied that he remembered all their names—he'd appear a real fool if he forgot and had to ask—Typhon was prepared to sit back and wait for his father to get over here. That was, until he saw Joffrey smirking at Sansa, who was smiling back shyly with a blush on her cheeks. Gods, was another girl going to fall head over heels for his brother based on his looks alone? That only meant there would entire rivers of tears when they saw how much of an utter shit Joffrey was.

That was when his father made it into the courtyard. As one, every northerner in sight dropped to one knee before him bowing their heads in submission to the King. Two squires came up and helped Robert dismount his horse, and he walked closer to them. He stopped in front of Lord Stark, overlooking them all. Then, with a wave of his hand, he silently bid them all to rise.

Lord Stark was tall enough that Robert actually had to look up slightly to stare him in the eye, despite the fact that the King was of no small stature either. ' _Not like Uncle Tyrion, in any case. Actually, where is Uncle?_ ' Typhon thought, looking around and seeing that Tyrion was nowhere to be found.

He was forced to refocus on the matter at hand, however, when his father simply said, "You've got fat." The prince blinked once, twice, then looked at Robert. Now if that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black…

Apparently, Lord Stark was of similar mind, looking pointedly at the king's massive stomach. Then was a moment of silence, the two seemingly trying make the other blink first. Then it came to an end when both Lord and King burst into laughter, before hugging each other like old friends. Then Robert looked over at Lady Stark, exclaiming "Cat!"

"Your Grace," she replied much more calmly, returning the hug when he decided to give her one too.

Typhon had to avoid chuckling at the spectacle, instead remaining silent as Robert asked "Nine years. Has it really been that long? And where the hell have you been this whole time?"

Ned kept grinning, even as he respectfully replied "Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell remains yours."

"Where's the Imp?" Typhon heard Arya reply, and looked over at her with a frown. However, before he could say anything, he noticed that her expression wasn't one of disdain or superiority. She was just curious.

' _A highborn girl who doesn't care for Uncle's appearance? Now_ that's _interesting,_ ' he thought, completely missing Sansa telling her sister to shut up.

Their exchange, however, drew his father's attention, and he looked over at the rest of the Stark family. "Who have we here?" he asked, moving over to them one a time. "You must be Robb," he said, extending his hand for the eldest child to shake.

Robb did so with a firm hand and ever firmer expression. A Stark through and through. Satisfied, he took one look at Sansa and said "My, you're a pretty one." While Sansa was looking away and smiling, he continued and looked at her sister. "And what's your name?" he asked.

With about as much subtlety as a punch from the Mountain, she replied "Arya." Robert said nothing, momentarily flummoxed by her behavior. Both Sansa and Catelyn gave her lecturing stares, but Typhon had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid laughing. Somehow, it seemed that was the exact moment when Arya looked at him too, and seeing the grin on his face caused a similar one to appear on hers.

Just then, his mother finally exited the carriage, looking as beautiful as ever. She wore a red dress to proudly display her Lannister heritage, and Typhon was somewhat saddened to see that there was nothing to indicate her being a part of House Baratheon to go with it. Then again, considering the state of her and his father's marriage, it shouldn't have been too surprising.

As it was, she stepped in front of Ned, and he kissed her hand when prompted. "My Queen," he said, with Catelyn parroting it and curtseying.

"Ned, take me to your crypts. I want to pay my respects," Robert said, having finished talking with Bran.

Typhon frowned further. Not even five minutes, and his father was already trying to go there? Not only was it no secret just whose crypt he was going to see, but they had been on the road for a month. Couldn't he at least wait? His mother said as much, commenting "The dead aren't going anywhere, my love. Surely you ought to rest first."

But Robert merely said "Ned," and walked off. Lord Stark stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before he sent Cersei an apologetic look and obeyed his King. An awkward silence fell over them, with Lady Stark looking rather uncomfortable while Cersei looked equal parts saddened and embarrassed.

' _So, do I wait for someone else to say something and risk it being something even more awkward? Or do I speak up and say something myself?'_ Typhon thought. Deciding on the latter, he got down from his horse and began walking forward. As he did, he whispered to his Uncle Jaime to start looking for Tyrion, who nodded and rode off.

However, before he could say something, Arya spoke up, once again asking "Where's the Imp?" Well, so much for preventing something more awkward.

At that, Cersei's embarrassment turned to anger, and she walked back to the column to order someone to go find him. "I've already sent Uncle to go find him, Mother," he told her.

Cersei blinked in surprise, before smiling thankfully. Then she turned back around and, with the rest of his siblings in tow, walked off. The crowd began to disperse after that, all the guards returning to their posts while several servants began moving all the royal family's belongings inside.

Seeing his chance to explore more his new temporary residence, Typhon resumed stepping closer. "Lady Stark, I see the rumors of your beauty were not exaggerated," he said, bowing.

Catelyn paused, not having realized that he hadn't followed his mother, but quickly bowed. "You're too kind, My Prince. I take it Winterfell is to your liking?" she asked politely.

Typhon could have sworn he heard Arya mutter "Why shouldn't it be?" but he pretended to have heard nothing. "Indeed it is, My Lady. I was wondering if I could possibly explore your household for a while. Could you send someone to come with me, so I don't get lost?" he requested.

"I know my children would be more than happy to give you a tour," she replied, before looking over at said children. Sansa was too busy staring at where Joffrey had left, obviously eager to go talk to him. He doubted Brandon or Rickon would be able to give a good tour. So that left just Robb and Arya.

Struck by a sudden impulse, Typhon said "Perhaps the Wolf Girl would be willing to volunteer." At that, every member of the Stark family looked at him in surprise, save Arya. Arya appeared excited at the idea of showing off her home, and quickly nodded. "Excellent," he said, smiling as he began following her.

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With Arya as his rather enthusiastic guide, Typhon was shown just about every part of Winterfell that didn't include the bedchambers. First was the training yard, which was overseen by a stocky man with white hair and a stern expression. According to Arya, that was Ser Rodrick Cassel, Winterfell's Castellan and its Master-At-Arms.

Then there was the broken tower, a structure that had once been Winterfell's tallest guard tower. But then it was struck by lighting a little over a century ago, and the top two-thirds of the building had collapsed in on itself. No attempts had been made to repair it, and even now it was slowly crumbling a little more with each year that passed.

Then there were places such as the rookery, where the messenger ravens were kept, a library that Arya was all too eager to get away from, the armory, and dozens of courtyards and open areas.

It was when they were returning to the training yard that Typhon heard a something akin to a bark. Turning around, he saw what appeared to be a large wolf with gray fur charging at them. Typhon's eyes widened, and he began reaching for his sword. But then, to his utter shock, Arya stepped forward and called "Nymeria!"

The wolf, apparently named Nymeria, came to stop in front of Arya, panting and looking up at her with dark golden eyes. The girl began petting her like one would a dog, making Typhon raised an eyebrow. "Yours?" he felt the need to ask.

Arya nodded happily. "Yep. Her name is Nymeria, and she's my direwolf!" she stated. At that, Typhon grew even further surprised. But then he took a closer look, comparing the creature before him to the few actual wolves he had seen before. Compared to them, the direwolf's legs were longer and they had larger heads, as well as longer, more prominent muzzles. But weren't dire wolves supposed to have gone extinct except for north of the Wall?

Typhon asked as much, and she replied "That's what we thought. But then Father came across a whole litter of them when he was outside of the castle one day. There was one for each of his children, so he let us have them."

That made him nod his head, though he internally wondered over the strange coincidence. The first direwolf sighting in years, and the number of pups was exactly equal to the number of Stark children, who had the direwolf itself as their symbol? A little _too_ coincidental, if you asked him.

Back in the present, Typhon pushed his thoughts down and stepped closer, holding his hand towards Nymeria. She looked at the hand, before looking at him in curiosity. Then, after a few seconds of sniffing, she licked his hand and pushed her head into it. Typhon smiled and began petting her as well, causing Arya to smile even wider. "She likes you," she said.

After that, they resumed their trip back to the training yard, this time with the direwolf walking in between them. As they walked, Arya asked "So, what do you think of Winterfell?"

Typhon looked around. "I find I'm enjoying it. Quite a bit, to be honest. There's no flashy colors or unnecessary noise, amongst other things. Being in a place like this reminds of all the things in the South that I could honestly do without," he admitted.

Arya grinned, as if to say 'I knew it. My home is the best.' But what she actually said was another question, on a completely different topic. "Is it true that they call you the Storm Lion?"

Typhon nearly tripped over his own feet, looking at her incredulously. "Where did you hear that?" he nearly demanded.

She shrugged. "It was something I heard once. They call you that because the King is from House Baratheon, who controls the Stormlands. But your mother is from the Lannister House, and you supposedly take after her father, Tywin Lannister," she explained.

Typhon thought about that for a while, before sighing. "This isn't the first time I've heard that name, and I confess that there's some truth to it. While I've spent most of my life in King's Landing, I've visited over places, such as Dragonstone, where my Uncle Stannis lives, and Casterly Rock, which is to the Lannisters what Winterfell is to the Starks. I had heard of how Grandfather was supposedly one of the smartest and most powerful men in Westeros, and begged him to teach me what he knew. I suppose that's why they think I took after him," he told her.

Arya considered this for a while, before simply saying "Alright," and looking ahead.

What Typhon didn't say was that Tywin, seeing the earnest desire to learn in his grandson's eyes, had decided to test him with a single riddle, something Lord Varys had once told him. Three powerful people—a king, a priest and a rich man—were standing in the same room. In the center of the room was a common sellsword. Each man wanted the sellsword to kill the other two. So, who lived, and who died?

As a child, Typhon had only a vague idea of what power actually was, be it power in politics, in warfare, in sword fighting, etc. So how was he supposed to come up with an answer for a riddle like that? But when he couldn't come up with an answer, Tywin dismissed him, saying for him to only come back once he had figured it out.

Rather than be discouraged, however, Typhon took it as a challenge, and thought day and night about the answer could be, using every bit of wisdom his eight-year-old mind had possessed. Until finally, on a day when his father went into the Kingswood to go hunting again, it came to him. And the next time he saw Tywin, he gave his answer.

Tywin's answer had been that the rich man would live, while the king and priest would die. After all, it was a _sell_ sword who was being given the task, someone who killed for money. So, because of that, it was only natural that the sellsword would obey whoever offered the most money. (And if this happened in real life, the rich man was probably a Lannister.)

Varys's answer to the riddle was the it was whoever had the most power, which in turn was whoever the sellsword _believed_ had the most power. Like a shadow on a wall, whichever man created the greatest illusion of strength was the one the sellsword obeyed.

When Typhon had approached his grandfather that day, his answer had not been either of the first two. Instead, Typhon said that the sellsword would live… and every other man would die. The king would die and have his crown and throne taken, so the sellsword could be the new king. The priest would die because the rich man wanted it, and the sellsword had no faith in the gods or their wrath. And then the rich man would die as well, whether on that day or another, so that the sellsword would take not just the gold offered to him, but every bit of gold the rich man had.

From that day forward, the prince would spend one month a year at Casterly Rock at minimum, where his lessons with Tywin would continue.

Typhon was once again pulled out of his thoughts by Arya, who said "Well, that finishes up the tour. Do I need to take you to our chambers too, or can one of the servants do it for me?"

Looking at her, he could see that, now that she was done showing the place she lived in, Arya was keen to move on and go do whatever it was she wanted to. So, Typhon chuckled and shook his head, saying "I'll ask a maid to take me. Have fun, Arya."

She nodded and ran off, Nymeria pausing to take a good look at the prince before running off as well, quickly catching up with her owner. And Typhon was left to laugh at how much the wolf and girl were like each other, before finding a maid to guide him to his chambers.

* * *

Looking down at his choices of clothing for tonight's feast, Typhon had to avoid rolling his eyes. His mother always wanted him to dress in only red and gold, to display his Lannister blood and nothing else. And his father wanted him to do the same with the Baratheon colors of gold and black. The outfits before him reflected that, essentially forcing him to pick which side of his family he wanted the Starks to see in him.

"As Father would say, piss on that," he muttered aloud, and reached in his trunk to pull out his own choice of outfit. A black, fur-lined cloak and black tunic, with the back of the cloak possessing crowned stag embossed in gold. And to go with it were scarlet trousers and leggings, as well as pair of gold rings on his right hand, shaped like a stag and lion's heads respectively.

Shortly after he finished getting dressed, there was a knock on his door. Turning around, he said "Enter," and his mother walked in. Cersei was garbed in breathtaking red and gold dress, one that covered and yet still showed every inch of a figure that set women in King's Landing alight with envy. Her hair was done up in some elaborate southern braid, and her smile could send lesser men to their hands and knees.

She directed that smile at him, she said "You look more handsome than your father, Typhon."

The prince chuckled. "Considering that father has a stomach as wide as he is tall, that's not a hard feat," he pointed out.

Cersei didn't laugh, but he could tell from the way she pursed her lips that she wanted to. She sat down on the bed and gestured him to sit beside her. He did so, resisting the urge to lay his head in her lap like he hand done as a child. "You shouldn't say such things about your King," she admonished lightly, before switching topics and asking, "Why aren't you wearing the clothes I had laid out for you?"

Typhon sighed. "Father wants me to show off the part of me that comes from him, and you want me to do the same for you. But I carry blood from both of you, lion and stag," he stated, waving at both his clothes and his eyes.

"So I see," she said, softly running a hand through his hair. "You know, when you were born, and I saw that you had Robert's hair, I worried that you would inherit his less desirable qualities as well. But instead you only seemed to inherit his best—pride, determination, skill with a sword, and so on. And from me, you inherited ambition, intelligence, and a keen eye for reading others," she told him.

Typhon smiled and leaned into her hand, enjoying the comfort it brought. "One day, if Grandfather has his way, I'll end up the heir to Casterly Rock. Head of one of the most powerful families in all of Westeros. I have to be strong, and smart, and ambitious, if I'm ever going to do well at it. And either way, I'll still have to help Joffrey rule in King's Landing until the day he dies," he replied.

Cersei raised an eyebrow. Even she wasn't so blind to see that, until he matured, Joffrey would not be a good king on his own. But from the way her second oldest spoke, he'd still need help long after. "Why is that?" she asked.

"Because the Iron Throne is a chair for fools," he said bluntly. At her perplexed expression, he elaborated. "Whether they were a fool before they sat on it, became one the instant they did, or grew to be one after, every person who had ever or will ever sit on that throne is a fool. Just look at Father and the Mad King for proof. And Joffrey will be no exception."

His mother frowned but didn't have a response to that, partly because she suspected him to be right. Instead, she looked out the window and saw the it was starting to turn dark. Which meant that the feast would be starting soon.

"Come, now. Let's be kind to our hosts, savages though they may be," she said, rising to her feet. He followed her, and together they made for the Great Hall.

* * *

 **Yep, another plot bunny, this time for Game of Thrones. What can I say? It's a freaking awesome show.**

 **Please review! If you flame me then the White Walkers will make you a member of their undead army. (I'm just kidding... or am I?)**


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